


Lost & Found

by HixyStix (GaiaMyles)



Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, Custody Battle, Divorce, F/M, Heavy Angst, Relationship Issues, gotta get worse before it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-31 05:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 56,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaiaMyles/pseuds/HixyStix
Summary: In a world where the bombs never went off, Bill Koehler is living his best life.  He’s been elected sheriff and has a wife, two kids, and a third on the way.Then the unthinkable happens.  Bill is tested against tragedy and fails, losing everything along the way.Somehow, he has to get his life back.





	Lost & Found

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to end sadly, but the characters didn’t listen.
> 
> This takes place in a non-bombs Jericho AU setting, using characters from my [Bill/Sarah trilogy](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1048497).
> 
> Thanks to [WarlockWriter](https://warlockwriter.tumblr.com/) and [Letzi](http://disizletzi.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing and cheerleading! Moodboards by the awesome [idabbleincrazy](https://idabbleincrazy.tumblr.com/)!

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2zhr5g5)

 

 

**PROLOGUE: FOUR YEARS AGO**

Bill sat down in front of Sheriff Dawes’ desk.  “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“I did.”  The sheriff leaned forward on his desk, steepling his fingers.  “What are your plans for the future, Bill?”

Trying not to squirm under his boss’ gaze, Bill said, “I don’t know career-wise beyond being a deputy and retiring someday.  On the home front, my wife and I have an infant and probably want a couple more down the road. But that’s about it.” He liked to think of himself as an uncomplicated guy, but saying that out loud made Bill realize that maybe he was just unambitious.

Dawes sighed.  “Truth is, Bill, I want to retire.  I’m seventy now and I want to go enjoy my grandkids, but I also want to leave the department in good hands.”

Bill hoped his sneaking suspicion was wrong.  “What are you planning, sir?”

“I want you to run.”

He’d been right.  “Why me?”

“Salem and Riley are too volatile, Jimmy too passive, and neither Lamar nor Connor have much initiative.”

“So I’m what’s left.”  Bill had been hoping for more of an endorsement than that.

“You’re a damn good deputy,” Dawes said.  “And I think you’ve got the right attitude as long as you keep that temper in check.  Keep Jimmy close by and he’ll even you out.”

Well, Bill supposed that was a little better than just being the least worst choice.  “I’ll have to think about it, sir. Talk to my wife. When do you need to know by?”

“Sooner the better.  I’m announcing my retirement officially at the end of the month and I’d like to go ahead and endorse you then.”

Endorse him?  Bill wasn’t expecting  _ that _ .  “Thank you, sheriff.  I’ll talk to Sarah and get back to you.”

 

Sarah was nursing six month old Nathan when Bill got home.  He leaned in the nursery doorway, watching them with a faint smile on his face.

“What?” Sarah asked, grinning shyly.  “Something funny?”

He walked in the room and kissed her on the forehead.  “No, just thinking how much I love you both.”

“Ah.  You can do that as much as you want.”

“Thanks,” he said, smile turning wry.  “I appreciate the permission.”

“Anytime.”  She looked at him closer.  “You’re thinking about something else.  What’s up?”

“Dawes is retiring.”

“You knew that was coming,” Sarah pointed out, looking back at Nathan.  “He’s past retirement age.”

“He wants me to be his replacement.”

That surprised Sarah enough she jerked turning to look at him.  The motion messed up Nathan’s nursing and he made his displeasure known by fussing.  Sarah helped him latch back on. “He wants you to run for sheriff?” she asked incredulously.

Bill was almost insulted.  “You don’t think I can do it?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to.”

“I don’t know that I do,” he sighed.  “But if Dawes wants me to do it, I guess I’d better.  He sees something I don’t, maybe.”

Sarah smiled at him again.  “I see it, too. You’d be a good one, if that’s what you want to do.”

Bill sat on the floor next to the rocking chair and leaned against his wife’s legs, looking up at her.  “I don’t know the first thing about campaigning and I’d have to do it every four years the rest of my working life.  Ex-sheriffs don’t get to go back to being deputies, so the job prospects if I lose aren’t great.”

“I bet the sheriff would help you.  You’ve also got the Richmonds and the Taylors.  And you can exploit Nathan and me for that family man image.”  She grinned again.

“You think everyone would help me?”  Bill hated to ask.

“Of course!”

He thought for a minute.  “You really think I could do it?”

“You underestimate yourself, babe.  You can do this.”

He hugged her legs, pondering.  Should he do this?

 

Bill thought about it and agreed to run.  During the time leading up to the election in November, the sheriff treated him as his undersheriff – training him even though Riley and Salem were muttering about running themselves.

Sarah was right.  He had plenty of people to help him with a campaign and “KOEHLER FOR SHERIFF” signs started popping up around town.  It was slightly embarrassing to see, but the support was heartwarming.

He was focused one hundred percent on the campaign, so it took him by surprise when Sarah came to him in June and said she wanted another baby.  Nathan was only ten months old, but she pointed out it’d probably take them a couple months to get pregnant.

Pregnant?  When he was trying to start a new job?  Was that what he wanted? Sarah convinced him it was and the day after Nathan’s first birthday, she slid a positive pregnancy test in front of him at dinner.

Holy crap.  Two kids and a campaign.  Were they crazy?

 

The race came down to Bill and Paul Riley, but with the popular outgoing sheriff supporting Bill, it wasn’t much of a race.

Bill was still nervous as hell.  He used to have a beer or two at nights, but ever since Sarah announced her first pregnancy, he stopped almost completely – first in solidarity with Sarah not being able to drink and then because having a son made him want to stay sober.  Election night, however, saw him breaking out the old liquor stash after they put Nathan to bed, just to calm his nerves.

“How long does it take them to count the votes?” he asked, pacing the living room.

“Sit down, hon.  You know it’ll take a couple hours.  It does  _ every _ election.”

He looked at her, worry etched on his face.  “But my job has never ridden on it before!”

Sarah stood up and blocked Bill’s path.  “Sit  _ down _ .  You’re working yourself into a panic.  Sit down and breathe.”

She was right.  If he kept this up, he was going to have a panic attack and that was the last thing he needed tonight.  He let her lead him to the couch, where she curled up facing him.

“You ran a good campaign.  Your platform was good. You already promised Riley that he could keep his job if you won.  You’re the better candidate and you know it. Jericho knows it too, I promise.”

Bill kissed her and brushed his hand down her stomach.  “You have more confidence than I do. What if Riley wins and fires me?  How am I going to support four of us?”

Sarah held his hand against her.  “You’re not going to have to worry about it.  Trust me.”

She made him turn until she could rub his shoulders.  Bill tried to let the tension in his muscles bleed out, but he was only partially successful.

The phone rang and they both jumped.

He hopped up and answered, listening carefully and schooling his face against emotion.

Sarah watched him, obviously worried.

Hanging up the phone, he turned to his wife.  “I’m sheriff,” he said, disbelieving. “Sixty percent to Riley’s forty.”

Sarah quickly covered her mouth to stifle a cheer.  Once her initial joy was under control, she ran and hugged him.  “Sheriff Koehler,” she said and he blushed. “It’s got a good ring to it, like I told you before.

He kissed the top of her head.  “I can’t believe it. I’m supposed to work with Sheriff Dawes for the rest of the month to officially train and in December, I’m on my own.”

“You’re going to be a fantastic sheriff,” she told him, still hugging him.

Bill couldn’t help but remember Sheriff Dawes’ warning.  He  _ would _ be good – as long as he kept his temper and attitude under control.  All of a sudden, he worried he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Sarah and Jimmy would keep him in line, right?

 

 

**NOW**

It was the first warm Saturday of April and the Koehlers took their sons to see the Museum of Natural History an hour and a half away.  At four and two, they were both at a perfect age to like dinosaur fossils and play in the kid’s Discovery Room.

On the drive home, Nathan and Wes both fell asleep in the back of the van after fussing about going back to boring old home in boring old Jericho.  Sarah loved watching them sleep; Nathan looked like a little Bill and Wes had inherited her features - brown hair, round face, and blue eyes.

After checking that they really were asleep, she reached out to touch Bill’s arm.

“Hm?” he said, not taking his eye off the road.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” she said.

That statement earned her a glance.

She smiled to let him know it wasn’t anything bad.  “We’ve talked about having a third. I think it’s time.”

Another glance, this one lasting a half second longer.  “Really? You’re ready?”

“Are you not?” she asked, suddenly worried.

“Oh no, I definitely am,” Bill said.  “I just wasn’t sure you would ever be.  Two are keeping us pretty busy.”

Sarah laughed.  “It’s a good time, I think.  Nathan’s going into kindergarten next fall and Wes will be three next month.  It seems like the right time to me.”

“If you’re sure…,”  Bill looked a little worried.

“Would I have brought it up if I wasn’t?” she reasoned. 

He made an ‘okay, true’ face.  “Then let’s do it. Let’s go for three.  I’m going ahead and betting we have another boy.”

“What makes you think we’ll have a boy?” Sarah asked, amused.

Bill shrugged.  “It’s our track record so far.  Three for three. You watch.”

“I think you just don’t know what to do with a girl, so you’re hoping we don’t have one.”

“That, too.”  He grinned at her, flashing his dimples.

Sarah resituated herself in the car seat, anticipating.  Maybe if the boys kept napping when they got home, she and Bill could get started on this right away, especially if he kept smiling like  _ that. _

 

Nathan’s fifth birthday party started off well, but ended up a small fiasco.  He’d wanted to have it at Stanley’s farm with all the animals to pet. Between Stanley and Bill, they’d set up a nice little party with a small petting zoo and ponies to ride.

Unfortunately, most of Nathan’s preschool friends lived on farms themselves and were not impressed.  Nathan spent the last half hour of his party in Sarah’s lap, sniffling because no one was having fun with him.  It was a rough experience for a little kid, Bill noted, hating that his son had to go through it.

Parties were just overwhelming and asking for trouble, in his opinion.  Too bad they were expected.

Nathan cried himself to sleep and Sarah carried him into the farmhouse to join an already wiped out Wes in one of the Richmonds’ spare rooms.  Bill followed her up to check on both boys, wiping away a final tear on Nathan’s face.

Sarah followed him into the hallway, but grabbed the back of his shirt and made him stop before he went downstairs.

“What is it?” he whispered.

“You had enough of kids yet?” she asked.

Bill shrugged.  “Still reasonably fond of ours.  Why?”

“I’m pregnant again.”

He immediately glanced at her stomach, which made her laugh.  “You are?” he asked. “Really?”

She nodded.  “Really and truly.”

Wow.  Pregnant again.  Just, wow. This was happening.  They were going to have three kids.  “How long have you known?”

“This morning, before the party.  This was the first chance I’ve had to talk to you without the boys or other people present.”

Bill bent forward and touched foreheads with Sarah.  “You’re having the baby at the clinic, after what happened with Wes.”

“Thinking a little far ahead, aren’t you?  That’s still nine months away,” Sarah protested.  “Let’s wait and see what the doctors say when we’re a little closer.”

“You almost died last time.  Don’t make me arrest you and drag you down there when you’re in labor,” Bill threatened.  “You know I’ll do it.” It had been a difficult birth and Sarah lost a lot of blood, enough that he’d seriously feared for her life.

She laughed at him and he was almost offended she wasn’t taking him seriously.  He was deadly serious about this. Sarah took his hand and placed it low on her abdomen.  “We’ll see,” she repeated. “For now, let’s just deal with the fact that we’re going to be outnumbered before too long.”

Touching Sarah broke the tension in Bill’s head.  “Another baby,” he said, feeling full of wonder.

She chuckled again.  “You sound like this is our first.”

“Hey, I am allowed to be excited about  _ all _ our children,” Bill pointed out.  “Before they’re born  _ and _ after.”

Sarah took his face in her hands and gave him a light kiss.  “And that is why I love you so much.”

 

“Mama, you’re bigger,” Wes said, patting Sarah’s belly.

She stopped trying to shove Wes into nice clothes for Christmas dinner.  If she weren’t pregnant, she’d be offended.

They hadn’t told the boys yet.  Now that she was showing enough for them to take note, it was probably time.

Sarah moved Wes’ hand and forced it through the armhole of the little sweater vest.  “Yes, baby. I am. And Daddy and I will tell you why after dinner if you’re good.”

Wes pouted.  “Wanna know  _ now _ .”

“’ _ I _ want to know now,” Sarah corrected.

“I wanna know now,” Wes repeated dutifully.

“You’re going to have to wait,” she told him.  “After dinner.”

Wes gave her his best puppy dog eyes, but she held firm.

 

Bill’s mom Pam took Nathan’s plate away and Wes bounced in his booster seat.  “Mama! Is after dinner! Tell me!”

Nathan looked confused.  “Tell him what?”

Sighing, Sarah looked at Bill, who was just as confused.  She hadn’t had a chance to tell him what Wes asked.

She glanced around the dinner table – Pam, her parents, Bill’s sister Angie, and her wife Lisa.  “Sorry, guys. I promised Wes that Bill and I would explain something to him after dinner. And, well, it’s after dinner.”

“Explain what?” asked Nathan, sounding stressed.

“Why Mama is bigger,” said Wes, as if it was obvious.

All eyes turned back to Sarah and Bill, who gulped.  “I didn’t know we were having this talk today,” he whispered.

“It got sprung on me.  Sorry,” Sarah whispered back.

Angie watched them, amusement dancing in her eyes.  “Go on, Bill, tell the kids what they want to know.  _ All _ the details!”

Bill shot his sister a look.

Sarah put her hand on her belly and thought a minute.  How had they decided this would go? “Nathan, Wes, you’re both going to be big brothers.  Mama and Daddy are having another baby. You’re going to have a little brother or a little sister.”

Nathan pulled a face.  “Another?” he asked, glaring at Wes disappointedly.

For his part, Wes looked discontent.  “But why bigger?” he asked again.

Hoping he would jump in, Sarah glanced at her husband, but he just gestured for her to finish.  Gee, thanks.

“Because babies grow in Mamas’ tummies.  Right now, the baby is still very small, but it’ll get bigger, like this.”  She held her hands up in an approximation of how big the boys had been as newborns.  “The baby will be ready to come out in April.”

Wes seemed to think about that a minute.  “I be a big brother too?”

“I  _ will _ be a big brother too,” corrected Bill.

Wes didn’t repeat it this time; he was too busy waiting for an answer.

Sarah nodded.  Maybe Wes would accept this better than Nathan.

Pam reached over and stroked Wes’ hair, trying to tamp down a stubborn cowlick.  “Won’t it be fun when you have a little brother or sister to play with?”

Wes seemed to realize something.  “I be bossy, too!” he said triumphantly.  “Like Nathan!”

 

“Well, that didn’t go like I’d hoped,” Sarah said later, while cleaning up after the meal.

“Me either, but we should have seen it coming,” Bill said.  Nathan was already tired of Wes following him everywhere: of course he wouldn’t be excited about another little sibling.  Wes only had Nathan’s example to follow – and Nathan  _ was _ bossy with him.  It only made sense that’s what the kids would think about.

He watched out the window as he packaged up leftover turkey – the kids were outside with Angie and Lisa and their grandparents.  It was neat watching his sister with them: they’d jumped on her immediately and she took right to being an aunt for someone who claimed to hate kids.  Bill was glad they were staying for a few days.

Sarah caught him looking.  “Glad to have your sister here?  Or contemplating something else?”

“Glad to have  _ all _ our family here.”

“Well, you and I have done our part in growing it,” Sarah joked.  She reached up and kissed Bill.

He wanted so much to hold her and kiss her more deeply, right there in the kitchen, but his hands were covered in turkey muck.  “No fair doing that when I can’t touch you.”

Sarah kissed him again.  “That sounded like a challenge.”  She yanked his shirt out of his pants and ran a hand up under it.

Bill did his best imitation of a statue, trying not to respond.

Sarah tweaked a nipple and Bill gave in.  He moaned and had to stop himself from grabbing Sarah, turkey mess or no.

There was a laugh from the back door.  “No wonder you’re on kid number three,” said Angie.  “Leave you alone for a few minutes, and I come back to this.”

Both Bill and Sarah blushed and Sarah yanked her hand back.

“I came in to see if you needed help cleaning up – those boys of yours are wearing me out – but maybe I should come back later.”

Sarah shook her head.  “Sorry about that, Angie.  I’d appreciate the help.”

“Don’t apologize,” Angie scoffed.  “It’s your house. Though you do have guests.”

Bill blushed again as he divvied up the turkey into packages for everyone to take home.  “And we’d never catch you doing anything with Lisa if we came down there, huh?” he challenged weakly.

“We’re sneakier than you.  We use bedrooms when people are around,” Angie joked.  “You two should try it before you scar your kids.”

 

Bill sat in his office, wishing there was something better to do.  Preferably something that didn’t involve going out into the frigid February wind.

A buzz from the desk drawer told him he had a text message.  He checked it quickly.

_ Having contractions.  On my way to the clinic.  Your mom has the boys. _

Bill stared at the screen.  This was three months too early.  Sarah couldn’t be having contractions yet; it wasn’t time.

As soon as it sunk in that something was seriously wrong, Bill jumped up and ran for the parking lot.

His truck or the sheriff’s car?  Well, one  _ would _ get him to the clinic faster.

Less than five minutes of running code later, Bill spun into the clinic’s parking lot.  He almost fell running in, but made himself walk once he reached the doors.

One of the nurses recognized him and pointed to a room in the back.

Sarah lay on the bed in a hospital gown, Dr. Green listening to her belly with a stethoscope.  Tears streamed down Sarah’s face. At first, neither woman reacted to Bill’s entrance, then Sarah reached for him.

Bill grabbed Sarah’s outstretched hand and wiped away tears with his free hand.  “Are you okay, babe?”

Sarah shook her head, but said nothing.

It was April that answered his question.  “There’s still no fetal heartbeat,” she said softly.  “I can get an ultrasound to confirm it, but…”

Bill recalled that April had lost a baby years ago.  Her words didn’t sink in for another minute.

No heartbeat.  That meant dead.  Their baby was dead.  Bill’s knees faltered and he knelt by Sarah’s head, stroking her hair as she cried anew.  He looked at the doctor for help.

April shook her head, gentler than her usual blunt manner.  “There’s nothing I can do. Sometimes this happens and we don’t know why.  All we can do now is deliver the body and help Sarah heal physically.”

What about mentally?  Bill wondered. How do we heal from this?

 

Hours later, there was a too-tiny baby girl in Bill’s hands.  She was s waddled in a blanket like a normal newborn, but she wasn’t breathing.

Sarah lay back in the bed, feeling miserable both physically and emotionally.  She hurt, her head was all stuffy and swollen from the crying, and even though she certainly wasn’t through crying, she was out of tears.  Dry sobs wracked her from time to time. She could barely see Bill with the baby.

Holding out a hand, she silently called Bill closer to her.  He sat down in the chair and scooted it closer to the bed. She took the baby girl from him and stroked a tiny cheek.  “Why?” she asked hoarsely, knowing Bill couldn’t answer. No one could.

Bill’s eyes glistened and Sarah knew he was fighting tears.  The mere fact that he was that close told Sarah just how torn up he was; normally he’d stay stoic in public and only break down later when they were alone.  “God only knows,” he said and there was a sharpness to his voice that Sarah didn’t like.

“Don’t get angry, Bill,” Sarah said quietly.  “Not today. Not while we have her with us. Later.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill try to relax.  She knew he still had rage built up, but he was trying not to show it for her sake.  She handed the little girl back to him, hoping that would help. “They’re going to come ask us what we want to do,” she said.  “If we want an autopsy. If we cremate her or bury her.”

The baby fit in one of Bill’s hands.  He cradled her gently, belying how he obviously felt.  “We’ll bury her. I’ll buy the plot next to ours for her.  We’re not forgetting.” 

Sarah heard the unspoken sentence:  we’re not forgiving, either.

 

The first week, Bill tried, for the boys’ sake.  They were still so little themselves, just five and three, that they didn’t understand when Sarah tried to explain why the baby wasn’t coming home.  They seemed to think she – Libby, they’d named her – was still at the hospital.

They didn’t deserve to know how much anger and pain he felt.

Three days after her birth, they had a small funeral with a tiny casket.  Sarah placed the order for a headstone; Bill couldn’t stand to do it.

That night, after tucking the boys into bed, he let himself cry.  Sarah cried with him and Bill didn’t know which of them was hurting worse – Bill for feeling helpless and like he should have prayed harder for the baby’s protection and health or Sarah, who was still healing physically and dealing with the loss.

Bill had tears aplenty, but mostly he had rage.  A week after the funeral, he couldn’t contain it any more.  He yelled at Jimmy at work and after that, he quit holding it in.

This shouldn’t have happened to them.  They weren’t bad people. He was a cop.  She was a mom. They were the good guys. They didn’t deserve something this awful.

Bill started praying again.  He tried to start calmly, but he grew more furious as the weeks went by.

“Why didn’t You save her?”

“Where the hell were You?  Why didn’t You save her?”

“All it would have taken was a tiny bit of Your power.  You could have saved her, damn You.”

“Do You even care about us?  Is everything in the Bible a joke?   _ Why didn’t You save her _ ?”

“Fuck you.  I believed in You and You let  _ this _ happen.”

Eventually, the prayers turned to nothing but damnations.

Some part of him knew he was letting the anger consume him, keeping him from fulfilling his role as sheriff, husband, and father, but he couldn’t shake it.  When he was home, pretending to be normal in front of the boys took everything he had; it was easier not to be home. 

So he stayed away.  And he missed what was happening to Sarah.

 

Sarah tried, for everyone’s sake.  No matter what happened, the boys still needed a mother.  They needed a father, too, but Bill wasn’t in the right frame of mind.  It fell to Sarah to hold the family together. 

It’d been long enough that she no longer showed signs of the pregnancy.  Her body was the only normal thing in the house, though. The boys picked up on their parents’ moods and were sullen and argumentative.  Bill spent his time at work, off doing who knew what, or in the garage making noise. The last couple weeks, he’d practically quit talking at all.

Honestly?  Sarah felt like she’d lost her husband as well as a child.

She didn’t cry in front of Bill any more.  It just set him off and then he’d leave again.  She didn’t cry in front of the kids because she wanted them to live as normally as possible.  Only when she was alone would she let go and weep for her lost daughter.

Bill blamed her, she was certain.  He didn’t even know the extent of it and he blamed her.

Maybe he should.

Sarah was hollow inside.  Her mind kept forgetting Libby wasn’t still safe inside her and she’d wake in the night to remember the truth.  She dreamt of her daughter accusing her of murdering her. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the bed and have Bill comfort her.  She wanted to give in to the darkness surrounding her. If it weren’t for Nathan and Wes, she would have. As it was, she clawed her way through it, but just barely.

 

Joanna, pregnant with her second, avoided Sarah at work, at least as much as possible.  Sarah didn’t know if her coworker was afraid Sarah would kill her baby, too, or if she simply didn’t know what to say.

No one seemed to know what to say.  Sarah tried talking to April Green, thinking she might be able to help her through her grief or at least empathize, but April just referred her to a therapist.

A therapist?  Sarah used to see one, but they couldn’t afford that now, not with one boy in kindergarten and the other in preschool.  Anyway, Sarah had been to so many, she knew what they’d say. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t less of a mother for it. What Bill was doing wasn’t her fault, either.

Bullshit.  Sarah wasn’t going to believe those things easily.  All the evidence pointed the other way.

“You’re putting too much on yourself,” Margaret Taylor said, when Sarah visited her while the boys were at school.  “Bill needs to step up and start behaving again.”

Sarah sunk a little further into the Taylors’ couch.  “I can’t talk to him any more. I mean actually. He ignores me or cuts me off if I try to say anything.  He sleeps on the far edge of the bed at night so I can’t touch him. He hasn’t touched  _ me _ since the funeral.”

Margaret tsked and sat in her usual armchair.  “He’s an idiot,” she declared. “But  _ you _ need someone to talk to.  Have you gotten a therapist again?”

“Can’t afford it, can’t get Bill to talk about adjusting the budget.  I’m afraid if I go over budget, he’ll blow a gasket.” Sarah rubbed her face.  “Hell, I’m afraid if I do anything, he’ll blow a gasket.”

Margaret watched her and Sarah knew her friend was waiting for her to elaborate.

“I think he’s not talking to me because he blames me.  I think–” Sarah stopped.

Margaret reached out and took her hand.  “What?”

“I think he’s going to leave,” Sarah said, quickly before she stopped herself.  She hadn’t admitted that fear, even to herself, until just now. “He’s already halfway out the door.  He only comes home to eat, sleep, and shower. He only sees the boys while he’s waiting for me to cook dinner.  As soon as we eat, he’s gone again until bedtime.” She fought the tears that came but lost.

An angry look crossed Margaret’s face and Sarah felt a pang in her heart.  She hadn’t meant to make Margaret mad. She didn’t want any more anger in her life.

“Jimmy told me how he was acting at work and I didn’t believe him, but if this is how he’s treating you…”  Margaret shook her head.

Sarah looked up.  “What? What’s he doing at work?”  Bill’s job came by election; he could easily lose it to someone else.

“He’s been irritable, to say the least.  Yelling at everyone, even Jimmy, over the slightest thing.  Riding everyone hard, especially the new kid. Jimmy’s been trying to do damage control, but it’s hard when Bill won’t talk to him, either.”

Shit.  If she couldn’t reach Bill and Jimmy couldn’t reach him, who could?  His mom, maybe, but she was mourning a lost granddaughter too. Sarah hated to burden her.  Stanley, maybe.

Sarah turned and looked out the window into the backyard.  “What do I do?” she asked, as if Margaret had the answer. 

Margaret got up and returned with alcohol for them both.  “Start here. Relax until it’s time to pick up the kids. Then do what needs to be done: take care of them.  If Bill is being a bastard, let him be one. Let him see how much he needs you.”

Sarah took a drink.  Margaret’s advice made sense while also feeling like the exact wrong thing to do.

 

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2lv1il1)

The sun set about half an hour ago, but Bill hadn’t moved except to zip up his coat against the wind.

The headstone had come in about a week ago.  ELIZABETH KOEHLER, it read, with a single date on it.  The date was a lie – she hadn’t been alive that day – but you had to put  _ something _ .

He should be home, some part of him knew, helping Sarah put the boys to bed.  Instead, he was here, again. He couldn’t stay away.

Damn the sort of God, the sort of world, who let something like this happen.  Who’d take his daughter before she ever had a chance to live. Before they had a chance to see her happy and alive.

Damn them.  And fuck the people who tried to tell them they should be grateful she died when she did.  That at least she wasn’t a “real baby” or a “real child.” Next person who said something like that, Bill was going to deck, he swore.  Yeah, Libby never lived outside of Sarah, so they were going to miss what sort of baby she’d have been. What sort of child. Who she’d grow up to be.  And fuckers had to gall to say that shit at the funeral, to his and Sarah’s faces.

And fuck the people who thought he should be over it by now.  Nobody said that crap to Sarah. He was a guy, so he wasn’t allowed to be upset?  As if he and Sarah hadn’t both wanted and planned for another child. As if he hadn’t been at every doctor’s appointment, including that horrible last one.  As if fathers somehow loved their children less than mothers.

Sometimes he just felt like screaming.  He was remote enough out here to get away with it, but that wasn’t appropriate for his daughter’s grave.  He owed her better than that.

Also, he wasn’t alone anymore.  Lights flashed across the headstone, Bill’s legs casting a long shadow over it.  Gravel crunched, an engine stopped, and a car door slammed.

Bill glanced over his shoulder.  It was one of his deputies, Connor by the look of it.

Connor stopped a few steps behind him.  “Sheriff?” he said cautiously. “Bill?”

Bill looked at him again, still angry at everything, and Connor took a step back. 

“Bill, you know the cemetery closes at dark.  Even for you.”

“I’ll leave when I’m ready,” Bill said, almost growling.

Connor shuffled his feet.  “Look, I know it’s not my place–”

“Then keep it to yourself.”

Connor paused, but forged ahead.  “If that were one of mine, I’d be torn to hell too.  But you’ve still got two kids. A wife. You need to be  _ there _ , not out here.”  He gulped, as if realizing how far he’d overstepped.  “Sir.”

Bill continued glaring at him.

“Go home, Sheriff.”  Connor turned and walked back to the car, hands stuffed into his coat pockets.

Bill watched the lights of the patrol car weave their way out of the cemetery and turn left, disappearing when Connor passed the windbreak.  He glanced at his watch. Nine pm. If he waited another hour, Sarah might be asleep when he went home. That’d be good.

Sarah.  Bill sighed.  He didn’t know what to do about her these days.  He couldn’t look at her without thinking of Libby.  Thinking of Libby just made him mad. It was easier to just avoid her when he could.

He had to sleep somewhere, so he shared the bed with Sarah.  That’s where his clothes were, too. Dinnertime, he couldn’t avoid either, and he did want to see the boys every day.  Even that was hard; Nathan looked so much like him and Wes so much like Sarah that it made him wonder who Libby would have looked like.

At least Sarah had started sleeping in.  At first, she’d tried to get up with him and talk to him over breakfast.  That’d been painful, especially since back then, she still looked pregnant.  Looked like Libby was still alive.

Bill shook his head and stomped his feet to stay warm and stood there for another fifteen minutes.  With a final look at the grave, he got in his truck and left. 

Maybe he’d stop by Bailey’s and get a drink to help him fall asleep.  Or drinks, plural.

Yeah.  That was a plan.

 

Libby’s due date came and went.  Somehow, things just got harder. Sarah walked on eggshells, trying to keep everyone balanced. 

Defying Margaret’s advice, she still cooked for Bill, still made sure the housework was done before he got home so he could sleep.  She pretended to sleep later in the mornings, listening to him get ready, only getting up after she heard his truck leave. 

For someone who’d been such a family man three months ago, Bill certainly changed drastically.

She missed him so much.  The old Bill, at least. Now, she needed him but apparently he didn’t need her.

This new Bill was a stranger.

 

“Make it quick, Jimmy,” Bill said, without looking up from his desk.

Jimmy didn’t.  He sat down in one of the chairs facing Bill.  “You know I’ve been trying to run interference for you, but, well.  There’ve been complaints made to the mayor. Trying to get you removed.  I wanted you to have a heads up.”

That made Bill look up.  Jimmy looked worried.

“Fuck,” said Bill.  “What the fuck do they want from me?  I’m doing the damn job.”

“You’re being an asshole about it.”

Bill glared at his friend.  “I’m  _ doing _ the job the best I can.”

“Bill, buddy.  If this is your best, you’re not doing yourself or anyone else any good.  You’re not on track to stay sheriff. You were great starting out, but now…”

“Now what?”

“Now I don’t know you anymore.”

Bill leveled his gaze at Jimmy.  “Get out of here. I’ll deal with the guys later.”

“You’re gonna have to do a lot of making up.”  Jimmy looked at him hopefully. “If you’ll just start by apologizing, it’ll go a long way.”

“I’m doing my best, like I said.  I won’t apologize for that.”

Jimmy’s shoulders slumped and he stood again.  “Okay then. I tried. Don’t be surprised if Mayor Green asks you for a meeting this week.”

Bill snapped his pen in half after Jimmy left, shards of plastic scattering across his desk.  Damn it! Why couldn’t people just let him get on with it? Why did they expect him to coddle his deputies?  They should be able to deal with it.

Asshole?   _ They _ were the assholes.

 

The day Bill shouted at Wes was the last straw.  Sarah couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

Calming Wes down took the better part of an hour.  He sniffled himself to sleep and Sarah stalked out to the garage, where Bill was working on  _ something _ with the cars.  She could have sworn he’d changed the oil in both cars at least three times in the past month, but she’d said nothing.

He was nearly waist deep into the van’s engine.  It looked like he was tearing it apart.

“God damn it, Bill.  Wes did  _ not _ deserve that.”

Bill pulled out of the engine, grease and oil streaked across his shirt and arms.  A smudge on his cheek almost made him look like a football player. “He was playing with the gun safe.  He needs to know better.”

“He’s  _ three _ .  Of course he’s going to try to get into things.  Those safes are fingerprint locked. There’s no way he could have opened one,” Sarah tried to reason.  “That’s why we bought them.”

Bill turned his back to her.  “He needs to know better,” he repeated.

Sarah came up behind Bill and put a hand on his shoulder.  He spun around, arm out, fist half-formed.

Shocked, she took a step back.  “Were you going to hit me?”

“Don’t touch me right now.”  Bill turned away again.

A hollow laugh escaped Sarah’s lips.  “When  _ can _ I touch you again?  You haven’t let me since we buried her.  Damn it, Bill, I’m hurting too, but she’s  _ gone _ .  We have to try to move on.”

His shoulders tensed.  “You don’t think I know that?”

“You’re acting like you don’t,” Sarah retorted.  “You’re acting like you want to wallow in it. Like a child.”

“Like a–” Bill broke off, turning around again and glaring daggers.  “How dare you say that?”

Sarah didn’t back down, crossing her arms.  “I dare because it’s true. You need to man up and be a father again.  You can ignore me all you want, but Nathan and Wes deserve better than this.  They need a dad who’s an actual role model. Not whatever it is you’re doing.”

She thought Bill might actually give himself a stroke, he turned so red.  “Get out,” he hissed. “I can’t deal with your crap right now.”

“It’s not my crap, Bill.  It’s yours.”

“Yeah?”  Bill got in her face.  “ _ I’m _ trying to still work and provide for this family.  I’m not the one who’s hiding things.”

Sarah tried not to back down.  “Hiding? What am I hiding?” It hurt that this was the closest she’d been to Bill in a long time and they were using the proximity to yell at each other.

“You told Margaret, she told Jimmy, and Jimmy told me.  I know that you knew something was wrong but didn’t say a  _ damn _ thing.”

It felt like Bill  _ had _ hit her and knocked the air out of her.  “If you’d ever talk to me, I would have told you,” she said quietly.  “I wanted to talk to you about these things but you won’t  _ listen to me _ .”  Her voice grew loud as she emphasized the last three words.

Bill threw out his hands.  “Well, I’m listening now! What do you have to say?  Or are you gonna stay silent this time, too?”

“I didn’t feel her move for two days, damn it!  Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to overreact or worry you unnecessarily.  Yeah? That’s what you want me to say?” Sarah let her hands fall to the side, gripping the seams of her pants. “She was probably already gone by then.”

“We’ll never know, will we?” Bill snarled.  “Because you never said anything.”

Sarah couldn’t stand any more of this.  Admitting defeat, she went back inside, only to find Nathan in the kitchen, wide-eyed and scared.  He hugged the back of Bill’s kitchen chair.

“Is Daddy mad?  Are  _ you _ mad?” he asked in a quiet voice.

It took Sarah a minute to find her own, but she knelt down to be face to face with him.  “Yes, honey. We were arguing. That happens sometimes, even when people love each other very much.  It’ll be okay.” Hopefully, she wasn’t lying.

Nathan nodded, chewing on a fingernail.

She pulled his hand from his mouth.  “It’s after bedtime, kiddo. Come on.  I’ll read to you.”

Behind her, the sound of the garage door caught her attention.  Bill’s truck revved and she heard him back out of the driveway.

Nathan looked up at her, scared again.  Sarah put on a smile for his sake. “I said bedtime, baby.  Let’s go.”

 

Sometime in the night, Bill came home, showered, and got a fresh uniform – Sarah woke up just enough to hear him in the bathroom.  He didn’t stay, however; his side of the bed was still made when Sarah got up.

Nathan and Wes were already awake and playing in their rooms.  Sarah kissed them both good morning and promised pancakes for breakfast.  Blueberry ones, their favorite.

“Daddy?” asked Wes.

Sarah stroked his cheek.  “Daddy’s not going to eat breakfast with us.  He’s already gone for today.”

“Okay,” he said sadly.  Her heart broke and she mentally cursed Bill for not being there.  Didn’t he know what he was doing to his children? Or did he not  _ want _ to know?  She kissed the top of Wes’ head and went to the kitchen.

Struck by a sudden thought while she cooked, Sarah looked out in the garage.

Bill had left the van in pieces.  She had no car.

Damn it!  She was supposed to take the kids to school and then go to the grocery store today.  How was she supposed to do that?

She texted Bill.  Maybe, wherever he was, he’d swing back by and pick up the boys on the way to work.

The text was civil.   _ Since the van isn’t drivable right now, can you take the boys to the church? _

The answer was less.   _ I’m already at work.  You can walk, can’t you? _

Sarah couldn’t believe Bill was being that callous about their sons.  What had happened to him?

Well, she knew  _ what _ happened.  She didn’t know  _ why _ .

She called the Catholic Church – the site of Nathan’s kindergarten and Wes’ preschool – and explained they would be late because she was having car trouble.  Their respective teachers said they understood and would see the boys when they got there.

Breaking the news to Nathan and Wes didn’t go as easily – even blueberry pancakes soaked in syrup couldn’t make up for it.  The church was a mile away, a long distance for little legs. Nathan even peeked in the garage to check that Sarah wasn’t lying to them about the van.

Sarah got the boys ready a little early and they set out.  Sarah dragged the kids’ wagon behind her; Nathan and Wes could ride in it when they got tired and she would put groceries in it afterwards.  By the time they were halfway to the church, she was towing the boys. Nathan complained the entire way there and Wes wasn’t much better.

Once they were safely deposited at the church, only a half-hour late, Sarah set out for downtown, wagon clattering behind her.

She stopped outside Gracie’s Market – not her favorite grocery store, but she wasn’t walking to the interstate to find the Dillon’s – and stared at Town Hall. 

Yeah, she was going to talk to Bill first, find out what the hell happened that morning.  Maybe even give him a piece of her mind.

If he’d listen.

 

Bill was buried in paperwork and didn’t notice Sarah come in until she was standing in his doorway.  He groaned inwardly and set down his pen. “What?” he grumped. She knew better than to bother him at work.

Sarah’s eyes hardened.  “You tore up the van and left it that way.  I just walked the boys to the church. You couldn’t come back and pick them up?  Or even warn me you’d left me without a car?”

Bill stood, since Sarah wasn’t sitting.  “I’ll get it tonight. Was that all you wanted?”

She reached over and shut the office door.  “You know it’s not,” she snapped. “Where were you?  You scared Nathan yelling last night and Wes was looking for you this morning.  When are you going to be a father again? This angry at the world crap is hurting your sons.”

Bill felt rage flicker in him again.  “I left because you wouldn’t,” he replied, knowing it was a nasty thing to say but not really caring.  “I didn’t want to see you. Go stay with Margaret for a few days and I’ll take care of the boys.”

Sarah gaped at him.

“You know what,” he said.  “You should definitely do that.  Since I apparently can’t trust you to keep our kids alive.”

Her mouth snapped shut.  Bill knew he’d hit a very painful nerve, but he’d intended to.  They stared at each other for a silent minute.

“I think maybe we need to look at getting counseling.”  Sarah crossed her arms. 

“Oh right.  Let’s waste money on more therapists,” Bill laughed.  He pulled out his wallet and threw the cash - five $20s he always carried for emergencies – on the desk in front of Sarah.  “Here. See if you can fix us by tossing money at the problem. It worked so well for you.”

Anger flashed in Sarah’s eyes and she snatched up the money.  “I’ll consider this child support from an absentee father,” she bit out.  “Don’t bother to come home tonight unless you plan to be part of the family again.”

Bill saw red and his vision narrowed.  “Oh yeah? How do you think you’ll get the van fixed without me?  And don’t forget, you’re in  _ my _ house.”

“When we got married, it became  _ our _ house.  You’re the one who’s not acting like it anymore.”  She paused, hand on the doorknob. “God damn it, Bill.  I still love you. I just really don’t like the person you’ve become.”

Bill stood there and watched her leave.

 

Sarah stopped in the bathroom on the way out of Town Hall and cried.

How had Bill said such hateful things to her?  Why had she said those things to him?

Suddenly, grocery shopping seemed an insurmountable task.  So did walking back home.

Sarah did the first thing that came to her mind and called Margaret, who came to pick her – and the wagon – up.  With a hug, Margaret took her to the Dillon’s, helped her shop, and then helped her unload the groceries at home.

“You know, I never thought I’d miss the days when we weren’t talking.”  Sarah slid into her kitchen chair.

Margaret took Bill’s chair and held Sarah’s hands.  “I think you were right. You two  _ do _ need counseling.  I think you guys are just going to have to agree to bust the budget on that.”

“I’m not sure he  _ wants _ us to get better,” Sarah admitted.  “If he hadn’t left uniforms in the closet last night, I honestly would have thought he was gone for good.”

Margaret shook her head.  “I refuse to believe that.  You two have been head over heels since you started dating.  I know he still loves you.”

Tears again.  Sarah was so tired of crying.  The last four months had been nothing but tears.  “I don’t know if he remembers that.”

Margaret squeezed her hands.  “Look, I’ll take you to pick up the kids and then I’ll send Jimmy over to work on your van when he gets off.  Maybe he can try talking to Bill one more time. Maybe he’ll see sense.” She leaned across the table. “And if Bill tries to kick you out, you pack those bags and come over to our place.  Bring the kids if you have to. You’ve always got a place to stay with us.”

Sarah nodded, still crying.  She really hoped it didn’t come to that, but hearing the invitation was a relief.  Deep down, she was afraid Bill really would tell her to get out. She’d argued the point, but the house really did belong to him and his family.  She couldn’t take it from him.

“What do I do if he doesn’t want counseling?” she asked quietly.  “What if he does want to end this?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Margaret said.  “But it won’t come to that.”

Sarah wasn’t so sure.  Sure, she and Bill had their good years, but it was possible for any relationship to end, wasn’t it?

For the boys’ sake, she hoped Margaret was right.

 

Bill kept getting interrupted, damn it.  First Sarah and her fussing, then a meeting with the mayor, and now Jimmy was trying to talk to him.

“How’d the meeting with Mayor Green go?” he asked.

Bill sighed, rubbing his temples.  “Apparently, like everybody else, he’s put out with me.  Warned me about this year’s election as if I didn’t already know that my job counted on it.”

Jimmy nodded.  “Considering how many elections he’s won, I’d listen to him.”

“Don’t start, Jimmy,” Bill warned.

They sat in silence for a moment.  Jimmy leaned forward in his chair. “I heard about what happened with Sarah earlier.  Margaret told me.”

“Damn it, can’t anyone in this town keep their mouth shut and stay out of other people’s business?”

“You need someone in your business, it sounds like,” Jimmy said.  “Bill, you’re being cruel and that’s not like you. What the hell is going on?”

“We lost a child.  Statistically speaking, marriages don’t survive that.”  Bill tapped his pen on the desk irritably.

Jimmy looked at him closely.  “And that’s what you want? You’re just giving up on it because you’re mad and she’s sad and you don’t want to work at it?  What happened to your wedding vows?”

Bill glared.  “Stay out of my marriage, Jimmy.  It’s not your problem.”

“Yeah, it kinda is.”  He shook his head. “Not only are you  _ still _ my best friend, despite the way you’ve been acting, Sarah asked me to go over and help her tonight if you weren’t going to be there.  Put the car back together.”

Bill held his glare.  Damn it, who did Sarah think she was, bringing other people into this?

“Hell, Bill.  That’s  _ your _ job.  You need to be there, taking care of them.”

“Sarah told me to stay away.”

“You told her the same thing.  And, as I was told, she said stay away  _ unless  _ you wanted to be part of the family.  Bill, you can still save this. You’ve got a chance to keep her, to keep the boys.”

Bill blinked.  “I’m not losing the boys,” he insisted.

Jimmy gave him a sad look.  “Right now, you are. Judges tend to give custody to the mother, you know that.  You could argue to keep them, but right now, you’re not demonstrating that you’re a good parent.”  He sighed. “If you trust me at all, if you still consider me your partner, then  _ listen to me _ .  Go home tonight.  Fix the damn car. Eat supper with your family.  Play with your kids. Apologize to Sarah. Try to make this work.  You’re setting yourself up to be a miserable old coot the rest of your life if you don’t.”

“It’s my life, Jimmy.  Stop intruding.”

“Bill!” Jimmy said, raising his voice.  “Listen to me, damn it! Do I actually have to yell at you to get your attention?”

Bill leaned back in his chair, a little shocked that Jimmy had actually shouted, but mostly trying to keep from shouting back.

“Go home!  Make an effort!  You made Sarah a promise when you married her that you’d work through stuff.  You made the same promise to the boys when you decided to have them. Are you going back on your word so easily?  Are you going to betray your badge next?”

Bill stood, chair rolling back to clatter against the wall, fists clenched so tight they were white.  “Get out of here, Jimmy. Former partners or not, I don’t have to take this crap from you. Keep it up and I can and  _ will  _ fire you.”

Surprise crossed Jimmy’s face and Bill knew he’d never expected him to go there.  “Fine,” Jimmy said, standing. “It’s your own fault if you don’t take my advice.” Jimmy left the office door open, grabbed his coat from his desk, and left for the day.

Bill about snapped another pen.  What was it with people telling him how to run his life lately?  He grabbed his chair and sat back down. Noticing that Connor and Lamar were both watching him cautiously, he waved them away, hoping they’d leave for their shift and he could be alone again.

He sighed, rubbing his face and trying to will away some of the anger so he could think again.

Maybe, just maybe, Jimmy was right.  Maybe he should be working to salvage what he could instead of waiting for Sarah to realize it was over.  Maybe this didn’t have to end that way.

 

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Sarah said, leaning in the doorway to the garage.  She held Wes tightly, as if she could protect him that way. He squirmed a little, but didn’t resist much.

Jimmy stood and grinned at her.  “It’s okay. I’m not as good at this as Bill, but I can get the van running again.”

Nathan tried to peer over the top of the engine to see what Jimmy was doing.  He got his hair ruffled for the effort.

“Hey, buddy, I need a wrench.  Can you find me the one that says five-slash-eight?” Jimmy said, pointing the boy towards the toolbox.  Nathan happily ran off.

“He going to bother you?” Sarah asked.  “I can take him back inside. Bill usually works alone.”

“Nah, Woody used to help me when he was that age.  We’re good, aren’t we, Nathan?”

“Uh-huh!” Nathan piped up as he dug through Bill’s toolbox.

Sarah looked at Wes.  “Let’s go read something, okay kid–”

She was cut off by the garage door opening.  Everybody froze as Bill drove in.

Sarah’s heart raced.  What was he going to do or say?  Surely he’d hold his temper in front of the boys.  Surely?

Bill barely gave her a glance once he got out of the truck.  “I got this, Jimmy. You can go.”

Jimmy gave him a half smile.  “Glad you listened.”

Sarah saw Bill shoot Jimmy a look, but he held his tongue.

“Hey there,” he said, kneeling next to Nathan.  “What are you looking for?”

He sounded so much like the old Bill, Sarah wanted to have hope.  Jimmy looked at her, eyebrows raised. Sarah shrugged one shoulder.  She didn’t know where this came from, either.

She set Wes down and he ran to Bill, who gave him a big hug.  Bill put a hand on both boys’ shoulders and said, “Daddy’s going to work on the car now.  You guys go in and I’ll play with you after dinner, okay? We can play outside with Sadie.”

“I, uh, I guess I’ll get out of here,” Jimmy said, rubbing the back of his head.  “Call if you need me,” he added, looking at Sarah.

Sarah nodded and called for the boys to come inside.  She noticed Bill’s eyes following them, but he wouldn’t look at her face.

She sighed after she shut the door.  Maybe he really was going to try. Maybe he didn’t want her gone.  Or maybe he was just here for the boys. She really didn’t know.

 

Dinner was almost normal.  Bill talked to the boys about their day and Sarah thought they didn’t notice he wouldn’t talk to her.

Bedtime was normal, too.  Sarah took Wes and Bill took Nathan, each of them reading multiple stories and getting glasses of water and one last diaper change for Wes.

Sarah walked into the bedroom cautiously, not knowing what to expect.  Would Bill make an effort with her? Was he just here to get a change of clothes for tomorrow?  Or would he tell  _ her _ to leave again?

He was sitting on the bed, taking off his work clothes.  He glanced at her as he pulled off his socks. “You don’t have to be so skittish, you know.”

Sarah tried to breathe and relax.  “I just didn’t know what you would do,” she said.  “Not after this morning.”

Bill sighed and sat up.  “I think we both messed up this morning.”

Was that an apology?  Bill didn’t add on to it, so Sarah supposed that was the best she’d get.

She’d take it.

Sitting on her side of the bed, Sarah also began getting ready for bed.  Every now and again she glanced at Bill, heart aching with how much she missed him.  He seemed like he was making an effort, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

Bill pulled on pajama pants and stretched.  “I’m going to watch TV before bed,” he announced.

Sarah nodded.  “Mind if I join you?” she said, testing the waters.

He shrugged and left the room.

Sarah slipped into a pajama set and followed him.  When she got to the living room, Bill had already pulled up the documentary channel.  Tonight looked like a Vietnam War program.

Good.  Something Bill would like.

She plucked a book from the bookshelf and curled up in her normal spot on the couch: leaning against the side closest to Bill.  He didn’t say anything.

They sat in silence for about half an hour.

“I was at Stanley’s,” Bill said, out of the blue.  “Last night.”

Sarah looked up.  He was still staring at the TV.  “Thank you for telling me. I wondered,” she said cautiously.

She watched the TV for a little bit, then studied the pictures on the entertainment center below it.  Most of them were of the boys, one from their second anniversary, and one a nurse had taken of Bill and Sarah holding Libby.  It was the only picture they had of her.

Tightness filled her chest again.  Maybe she should never have put that picture out here, where they’d see it every day, but Sarah hadn’t wanted to hide Libby away.  She wanted the boys to remember that they’d had a little sister.

“Damn it,” said Bill, just quiet enough he wouldn’t wake the boys.  “You’re crying again. Can you ever stop?”

Sarah’s mouth tightened and she wiped her face.  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t been able to work through it with my husband like I’m supposed to.”

Bill turned off the TV and threw the remote into the basket between them.  “I’ve had enough of your crying to last a lifetime.”

He was finally looking at her. 

“Then let’s find a counselor.  A grief counselor, a marriage counselor, a family therapist – I don’t care.  I just want us to get better.”

Bill didn’t say anything.  He simply rolled his eyes and left the room.

Sarah didn’t follow him until she’d stopped crying.  He was asleep, on the edge of the bed where he wouldn’t touch her in the night.

She crawled into bed, with Bill but oh so alone, and wept again.

 

An unsteady peace settled over the house the next couple of weeks.  They’d taken steps backwards to the days they weren’t talking.

Bill was fine with that.  He didn’t really have anything to say, anyhow.  He was here for the boys.

He’d thought about trying to fix things with Sarah, but couldn’t bring himself to work that hard at it.  He looked at her and it just wasn’t the same anymore. He didn’t feel the fondness and love he used to. He didn’t even think about Libby much.  Really, all he felt these days was irritation. And fatigue. He was so fucking tired of being mad and holding it in, of dancing around Sarah and her feelings, of putting up a front for the boys.

That was wrong, Bill knew.  He shouldn’t feel that way. Somewhere, deep down, he thought he still loved her, but it was very deep.

It’d gotten to the point he was sleeping on the couch most nights, the dog at his feet.  It was easier than listening to Sarah cry herself to sleep, every fucking night.

The boys had noticed that.  On the way to school that morning, Nathan asked him about it.

“But you have a bed, Daddy,” he said.

“Sometimes Daddy likes to sleep by himself,” Bill fibbed.  Well, it wasn’t  _ un _ true.  Just not the whole story.

Nathan didn’t look like he believed him, either.

“Daddy mad?” Wes asked.

Bill sighed.  Wes had recently turned four and was incredibly precocious.  Perceptive, too, perhaps more than Nathan was. “Sometimes,” he admitted.  “It’s okay, Wes. Daddy can be mad and still love you very much.”

To Bill’s relief, neither boy said anything more about it. 

God, why wouldn’t Sarah just wake the fuck up?  She said  _ he _ was hurting the boys, but what about her moping?  The boys needed someone who had their shit together and he was closer than she was.

He was ready for this to be over.  Ready to start over with the boys. Let Sarah do her thing, without them.  If she wanted to wallow in her sadness, so be it, just leave him out of it.

Please.

 

Her coworker’s little girl had been born two weeks ago.  She brought her into the library to show her off and Sarah was a jumble of emotions again.

On the one hand, she was truly happy for Joanna.  Baby Ashley was precious.

At the same time, it made Sarah ache all the more for Libby, in ways she’d thought she was past.

Joanna approached her slowly and sat at her desk, next to Sarah’s.  “Is it okay if we’re here?” she asked.

Sarah forced a smile.  “Yeah, it is. She’s beautiful.”

“I don’t…  I don’t want to rub it in,” Joanna said. 

Her smile turned sad.  “I know. You’re not, really.  It’s just all this other stuff going on, too.”

“Is Bill still…?”

“He is.  He’s gotten better with the boys but he’s still cold to me.  I’m just waiting for the day he says it’s over.”

Joanna looked so sympathetic it almost hurt more than the baby in her arms.  “What will you do?”

Sarah shrugged.  “I don’t know, honestly.  I can’t support the boys with this job, so I’ll have to find something else.  I don’t know if that means something here, so they can be close to Bill, or something back home in Tennessee, where I’m more likely to get a good job.”

“I’m so sorry you’re caught up in all that.  I don’t want you to have to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave, either.  This is the first job I’ve had in a long time that I love.  And, with a certain exception, I love the people.” Sarah and Joanna shared a slight smile when Sarah referred to their coworker Jennifer.  “I’d miss Jericho if I left, honestly.”

Joanna shook her head.  “If everyone learns how he’s been treating you, he’ll lose the election this year.”

“He might lose it anyway,” Sarah said.  “Apparently he’s been like this at work, too.  If the deputies don’t support him, it won’t matter what he’s done to me.”

“Maybe he  _ should _ lose it, then,” Joanna said, frowning for a moment.  She looked shocked at herself. “I shouldn’t say that to you.  I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay.  Really.” Sarah didn’t know how to feel about it, actually, but she wasn’t going to fuss at Joanna when her friend was trying to be on her side.

Joanna looked around, as if seeking something more to say, but apparently she came up blank.  “I’ve got to get this one home,” she said finally. “Take care of yourself. Do what you need to for you and the boys.  Bill will either figure it out or regret it later.”

Sarah nodded sadly.  “I hope.”

 

It hit Bill suddenly, while they were sitting on opposite sides of the living room before bed.

He was  _ done _ .  He wanted out.  He’d been weary of this before, but no more.  He knew what had to be done and he was going to do it.

“This is over,” he said out loud.  Sarah gasped and he gave her a look.  “You know it and I know it.”

“No…”

“Yes, God damn it.  I’m done pretending we’re going to stay together.  Go find a lawyer tomorrow. I’ll do the same.” He felt a surge of resolve.  “While you’re at it, go stay with Margaret or Joanna or someone who’ll have you.  I want my damn bed back.”

“Bill, we should talk–”

“We’ve had five months to  _ talk. _  If we haven’t worked things out by now, they’re not gonna work out.  Don’t act like you don’t know that.”

Sarah stood and he could tell she was trying not to cry  _ again _ .  “You really want me gone?”

He stared at her.  That was answer enough.

“Fine,” she said, clenching her fists.  “Let me get the boys and we’ll be out of your hair.”

That brought Bill to his feet.  “Don’t you dare touch my sons. They aren’t going anywhere.”

Sarah laughed bitterly.  “Who’s going to watch them, then?  Got daycare already lined up, do you?  Got someone to pick Wes up from preschool every day at one?  Nathan at two? Gonna take them to work with you? Lock ‘em in a cell so they don’t get in trouble?”

Fuck.  She was actually right.  “Then come back in the morning and we’ll hand them off.  But I’m so fucking tired of you. This is my house and I want to be able to relax in it again.  No more walking on eggshells around you. No more bullshit.”

Sarah watched him closely.  He didn’t back down.

“Okay, I’m gone tonight.  But I’m taking the boys with me tomorrow.  Just so you’ll know why the house is empty.”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ ,” Bill seethed.  “I’ll charge you with kidnapping if you take them anywhere except the church and back.”

“Try it,” Sarah shot back.  “See what a judge says. You don’t have proper care lined up for them.  I  _ am _ proper care.”  She turned and stalked out of the room.

Bill followed her to the hallway, standing guard to make sure she stayed away from the boys.  They were  _ his _ kids, damn it.  He was the breadwinner in the family.  Hell if he was going to give them up without a huge fucking fight.

Sarah came out of the bedroom with a small suitcase.  “Are you going to keep me from saying goodbye to them?”

“They’re asleep.  You’ll see them in the morning, at least until I line up something different.”

Sarah clenched her hands again and closed her eyes.  Bill sensed she wanted to yell, but didn’t want to wake the boys.  That was fine with him.

Sliding past him, Sarah disappeared into the kitchen and then the garage.  He heard her drive off and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He finally had his house to himself.  He looked in on Nathan and Wes, making sure they were still asleep, and got ready for bed.

His bed.  First time in weeks he’d done more than sit on it.

He threw back the covers and got a whiff of Sarah’s scent.

Tomorrow he’d have to change the sheets, get rid of that smell.

Tonight he was going to bask in the knowledge that things were finally about to get better for him.

 

Sarah held it together until Jimmy opened the door.  She’d called on the way over, so he knew why she was there.

“Come here,” he said, taking her suitcase and pulling her into a hug.  Sarah couldn’t stop the tears; it was the first time she’d been touched by someone other than her children in over a month.  “He’s a damn bastard.”

She nodded into Jimmy’s chest.  Tonight, she agreed. No more making excuses for Bill.

Margaret put a hand on her shoulder.  “Come in, hon. I’ve got the guest room ready for you,” she said.  “But first, what do you want: alcohol or hot chocolate? I don’t have tea, sorry.”

Sarah pulled back from Jimmy and laughed a little.  She’d come to the right place. “I think I better stick with hot chocolate tonight.”

Margaret nodded at Jimmy and escorted Sarah to the kitchen while Jimmy took her bag to the guest room.  She pointed Sarah to a chair and started heating water.

“What the hell happened tonight?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Sarah said, wiping her cheeks.  “It was out of the blue. He just announced he was through and I should get out.  Said to get a lawyer. Said to stay away from the boys.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed.  “He’s not going to try to keep you away from your kids?”

“I think he is.  He threatened to charge me with kidnapping if I took them with me.”  Sarah gave Margaret a plaintive look. “Not that I know where I’d take them.  But I can’t just leave them, either.”

“Kidnapping wouldn’t stick,” Jimmy said and Sarah knew he was trying to be reassuring.  “Parental kidnapping is a thing, but unless you try to keep him from them or take them out of town…  And you’re their  _ mom _ .”

It was good to know Jimmy was on her side, even if she felt like she was turning him against Bill.  They were supposed to be best friends; she didn’t want to get between them. She said so.

Jimmy laughed.  “He’s done that himself.  I try to talk to him these days, he threatens to fire me.  He’s not much of a friend lately.”

Usually, Sarah’s heart would ache for Bill, hearing that, but tonight… well, she just couldn’t bring herself to be too upset on his behalf.

Margaret poured milk into mugs and mixed in the powdered chocolate while the water boiled.  “You bring those kids here,” she said. “I told you that already.”

“They’re not in real beds yet,” Sarah pointed out.  “It’d be too much trouble.”

“Where else would you take them?” Jimmy asked.

Sarah cast about for an idea.  “Bill’s mom is set up for them.  I don’t know if she’ll welcome me, but she’d take the boys.”

“And give them right back to Bill,” Margaret said, handing out the mugs of hot chocolate.  “We’ve still got the toddler beds out in one of those storage sheds. We’ll get you set up.”  She spoke so firmly, Sarah couldn’t argue.

She slumped in her chair.  “I don’t want to fight Bill for them.  I don’t want to fight him at all, but I think he wants one.”

Jimmy reached over and rubbed her shoulder.  “I know you don’t want to, but you may have to.”

“Should I really, though?”  Sarah shook her head. “I mean, he’s got the full-time job.  He’s the one who supports us; I just pay the child care bills with my library job.”

Jimmy made a small noise of protest.  “He may not. Connor’s decided he’s going to run against him.  He’s already got the support of everyone else.”

“You included?” she asked softly.

He nodded.  “I hate to do it to Bill, but right now, Connor is the better choice.”

Bill really  _ had _ alienated Jimmy, then.  Damn the man. Why was he so determined to run everyone off?

Sarah sipped at her mug, savoring the comforting warmth.  “If I take the boys, I have to get a full-time job somewhere with benefits.  There’s not that many places hiring in Jericho right now. I looked.” She dropped her gaze to the table.  “Just in case.”

Margaret knew what that meant.  “If you have to move, you have to move.  I’ll hate it, but you have to do what’s best for Nathan and Wes.”

Margaret was right, she knew.  So was Jimmy. There was a fight coming.  She needed to be ready. “Okay. You’re sure I can bring them here?”

“I wouldn’t have said it unless I was deadly serious.”

Sarah looked at them both, trying to show some strength.  “I’ll pack up their things while they’re at care, then. Maybe we can have something set up by the time I pick them up.”

“We will.  We’ll also get you a lawyer.”  Margaret nodded. “If you need Jimmy to call out, he will.”

Jimmy nodded agreement.  “I’ll help you.”

Sarah took another sip of hot chocolate and fought another round of tears.  She didn’t deserve this kindness.

The boys did, though, so she was going to accept it.

 

When he saw Jimmy was out, Bill knew where Sarah had gone last night.  She’d shown back up right before he left for work, but they hadn’t said anything to each other.

With the way things had been going in his life, no wonder his former best friend was taking Sarah’s side.  At least he still had Stanley and Bonnie.

To make things worse, he’d used his lunch break to go across the street to Jericho’s best lawyer only to find Sarah had already been there and retained him. 

Damn her.  How’d she expect to pay him, anyway?  It wasn’t like she made much at her job.

The last straw was coming home to find her car gone.  A chill went through him and he knew. Knew she’d taken the boys, even after he warned her not to.

There was a note for him on the table, which he read with growing fury.  He checked the bedrooms, just to be sure, and both boys’ closets were empty and toys gone.

Bill spun and punched the door jamb of Wes’ room.  He busted his knuckles, but barely felt it.

_ Fuck this _ .  He was going to go get his kids back.

They must have been expecting him, because Jimmy met him on the front walk, blocking the way to the door.

“Move, Jimmy,” Bill said in warning.  “This is between me and Sarah.”

“Sarah and the kids are in my house.  You have to deal with me first.”

Bill laughed.  “You’re going to stop me?  Jimmy, you’re a pushover and you know it.  You get by on your size and  _ I’m not intimidated _ .”

Jimmy didn’t budge.  “When did you become this, Bill?  You used to be a good guy. Now you’re anything but.”

Seething, Bill took a step forward.  “ _ Let me by _ ,” he said, emphasizing each word.  “I’m going to take  _ my kids _ back home where they belong.”

“They’re fine here.  We’ve got them set up nicely.”

“Fuck that.  My sons are not going to stay at someone else’s house when they have mine.”

Jimmy looked at him sadly.  “Yeah, Bill. They are. Accept it.”

Bill roiled with anger.  “Then don’t bother coming into work tomorrow, Jimmy.  If you won’t let me by, you won’t have a job, either.”

He’d expected that to faze Jimmy, but it didn’t.  “You have to go through the union first,  _ Sheriff _ , and you don’t have good grounds to fire me.  Union isn’t going to back you on this one and you know it.”  Jimmy shrugged. “You don’t want me there? Put me on leave and I’ll find something to last me until November when the new sheriff is elected.”

The door opened behind Jimmy and Sarah stepped out, arms wrapped around her middle defensively.

“They’re staying with me,” she said, firmly.  “They have everything they need here. Including a good male role model.”

Bill bit his lips to keep from cursing at Sarah in front of Jimmy.  Why he still cared what Jimmy thought, he didn’t know, but part of him did.  “Fine. You keep them for now. I’m making arrangements,” he promised. “I’ll be back when they’re set up.  You better not get in my way then.”

He glanced at the house behind Jimmy and Sarah just in time to see Margaret pull Nathan and Wes away from the front window.  They were crying.

Fuck.  Fuck Jimmy and Sarah for arguing with him.  Fuck this whole situation for making his sons upset.  Bill spun and left. He lost today, but he was going to win this war if it killed him.

 

The Taylors were listening, all of them.  They were being polite and pretending not to, even twelve year old Sally, but Sarah knew better.

She got on the floor and hugged her boys.  They were acting scared, as if seeing their father made them realize this wasn’t a game.

Sarah wished she could assure them otherwise.

“We’re not staying with Daddy anymore and he’s mad about that,” she explained, stroking their hair.  “Mama and Daddy aren’t going to live together ever again. We both still love you, but we don’t love each other.  You and I are going to stay here with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Margaret while Daddy and I figure things out.”

“What things?” asked Nathan, still wide-eyed and teary.

“Where we’re going to live.  How much time you’ll spend with Daddy.  How to take care of you.”

“I wanna go home,” Wes whispered.

Sarah hugged them again.  “I know, baby. I want to, too.  But we can’t because Daddy is too mad.”  She hoped she was helping them understand, not just scaring them more.  She really didn’t know.

Jimmy glanced at her and nodded.  She must be doing okay.

“You can ask me questions,” she said.  “Or maybe Uncle Jimmy will answer some.  His Mama and Daddy did this, too.”

“Were we too bad?  Did I make Daddy mad?”  Nathan’s voice trembled and he wouldn’t meet Sarah’s eyes.

“Oh no, honey!” she said quickly.  “You had nothing to do with this happening.  This is all between Daddy and me. You have been  _ wonderful. _  Wonderful enough we both want you to stay with us all the time.”

She wasn’t sure Nathan believed her, but he nodded.  Wes was still staring at her with tears in his eyes. She kissed them both and sighed.

“All right, kiddos.  Go finish unpacking your toys in our new room.”  She pointed them to the guest room. Jimmy had scooted Sarah’s bed to make room for two old toddler beds - a race car and a pink castle.  Surprisingly there was still a little space for the boys to store their toys and books.

They trudged off and the spell was broken – the Taylors all stared at her.  Sarah sank back against the couch, exhausted. She’d known Bill would come for them and that it would take a lot out of her to stand up to him.  Some part of her had also guessed Jimmy and Margaret would help keep him away, but… “Jimmy. Your  _ job _ .”

He shook his head.  “Honestly, it was just a matter of time.  He’s trying too hard to push everyone away.  We’ll manage.”

“It’s all my fault,” Sarah said.  “I shouldn’t have brought the boys here.”

“No,” Margaret insisted.  “Like Jimmy said, we’ll manage.  You did the right thing.”

“It doesn’t feel like it yet,” she admitted.  “Not when I see what it’s doing to Nathan and Wes.”

“You can’t avoid them being hurt,” Jimmy said gently.  “But you’re not making it worse. Believe me; I would know.  You’re a better mom than to do that.”

Margaret noticed Woody and Sally paying attention to the adult’s conversation and lightly tapped the back of their heads.  “Homework, both of you. This isn’t your business.”

They looked back at their books, sneaking glances Sarah’s way every now and again.

“So you’re set on the lawyer?” Margaret asked.  “Do we need to help with that?”

“Oh gosh no!” Sarah protested.  “My parents are going to help me there, but Mr. Garrity is doing prorated fees for me since I only work part time.”

Margaret nodded in approval.  “Good. We’ve never had to use him but he’s supposed to be good.”

“April suggested him.  He was her lawyer when she divorced Eric.”  Sarah slumped again. “You know, when I married Bill, I really thought with his character that we’d never end up here.  I believed him when he promised we’d work through anything. I mean, we never foresaw losing a baby, but ‘for better or for worse,’ right?”

“Grief changes people.  That doesn’t make it right, but it’s true.” 

Sarah smiled sadly back at Jimmy.  “Yeah. Bill’s consumed by anger and I can’t get past being weepy.  Less of a change for me than for him, but still a change.” She rubbed her temples.  “He didn’t get this way when his dad died. But Libby…”

“You expect to lose your parents.  Maybe not as early as Hank died, but you’re supposed to be the one burying them.  Not a child. Never a child.” Margaret came over to sit on the couch, a comforting hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“It’s been long enough that I almost believe the people who think the grieving process should be shorter because she hadn’t been born yet,” she admitted.  “I could have slapped them when they said something like that at the funeral, but I wonder if they weren’t right. If I’m not holding on to her too hard.”

Margaret squeezed her shoulder.  “You shared two articles on Facebook after she died that I think were right – and that make those people wrong.  One about how a stillbirth is still a birth and the other about how grieving a lost child isn’t a competition and a lost child is a lost child, no matter the age.  They were good ones. I think they’re right. That you’re right. You haven’t been able to process Libby’s death because of all this crap with Bill. Maybe now that you know things are over, you can focus on you and the boys.”

Sarah shut her eyes, remembering the articles.  Remembering having to give birth, knowing Libby was already gone.  Going through the whole postpartum process without a baby to show for it.  The hollow feeling inside her afterwards. “She’d have been two and a half months old now,” she said quietly.  “If she’d been born on her due date. And we’d still be a family.”

Margaret slid to the floor next to her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.  Sarah leaned against her friend, grateful for the support.

Maybe they’d get through this after all.

 

Bill ended up getting a lawyer in Fielding, the county seat.  He had to drive half an hour to get there, but the office was right across the street from the courthouse, so that had to count for something.  Right?

Sims, his lawyer, talked to Sarah’s and said she was already working on a petition for divorce that would include custody arrangements. 

“Alimony?” he asked.  He didn’t want to make those payments, but Sarah might ask for them.

Sims shook his head.  “No mention of that.”

“Good,” Bill said.  “The most important thing is custody.  I want my kids.”

“You’re going to fight an uphill battle there,” Sims warned.

Bill knew that, but he was still confident he had the better living arrangements.  Whatever offer Sarah made, short of giving him sole custody, he was going to argue it.  He wasn’t going to take the chance that she’d run off with the boys again.

To his dismay, Sims suggested leaving the boys in Sarah’s care for the time being.  Confrontations wouldn’t play well in front of a judge if it came to that. He encouraged Bill to go ahead and prepare childcare arrangements, however.

Bill’s mom volunteered right away, of course.  She was a nearly obsessive grandmother, so she was happy to offer her services: picking up from school, watching them until Bill got out, cooking dinner for all of them.  He was happy to take her up on it.

He had his arrangements, then.  Now he just needed his kids.

Bill drove home from Fielding slowly, knowing he had another meeting with Mayor Green when he got back.  It was the third one in as many months and Bill was sure he knew what would be said.

Johnston kept trying to advise Bill on re-election, now that he’d given up on Bill taking his work advice.  It was only four months to the election, so Bill really needed to start campaigning. That was probably what the mayor wanted to talk to him about today.

Johnston’s secretary let him in as soon as he arrived.  The mayor looked somber.

Bill sat in front of his desk, waiting to hear what the mayor wanted to say.

“You’ve got an opponent,” Johnston said, looking at a piece of paper.  He showed it to Bill, who saw Lewis Connor’s name at the top of the petition.  Under it were the requisite number of signatures to run – and Bill recognized a fair amount of them as people who’d previously supported him.  A few of the signatures – like Jimmy’s – hurt to see.

Well, shit.  Jimmy had tried to warn him the department was turning against him.  Now he had proof.

But what was Connor going to run on?  Bill had kept the department running smoothly, with no scandals or misconduct.  His tenure had been calmer than Sheriff Dawes’ last few years. Did Connor plan on making personal attacks, airing department dirty laundry?  That was low, if true.

Damn it, he was a better man than Connor.  He’d been a better deputy. He was going to win this thing and fuck the deputies who stood against him.

Bill looked back up at Johnston, determination setting in his face.  “I’m not too worried, sir.”

Johnston raised his eyebrows.  “Never take an opponent lightly.  I talked to Connor this morning and I have to say, I think it’s going to be a tough race.”  His expression grew serious. “People are going to be watching you closer. I know you’ve got issues at home, but you  _ cannot _ bring them to work if you want to keep your position.  You cannot ride Connor or your other deputies harder because he’s running against you.  You hear me?”

Bill didn’t need to be told that stuff.  “Yes, sir,” he said stiffly.

Johnston studied him for a moment.  “Get out of here, son. Go do your job.  Prepare your campaign. After this, I’m staying out of it.  As mayor, I really shouldn’t be seen as taking sides.”

Bill hid in his office until five, fighting a headache.  Balancing a divorce with a campaign was not going to be easy.  He could do it, though. He’d win both.

He had to.

 

Garrity glanced up from the paper Sarah had given him.  “You’re sure?”

Sarah nodded.  “I’ve thought about it and it makes the most sense for me to move.  In Tennessee, I have family to support and help us and there are more career options.  If I take the boys with me that far, I want to make sure Bill still gets to see them regularly.”

He scanned the page.  “Every spring break, every summer, every Christmas.  That’s quite a lot. More than generous. You’ll be driving or flying them frequently.”

“He’s their father still,” Sarah said.  “I’m hoping he’ll be willing to help with travel costs.”

“We should include that in our proposal,” Garrity said, making a note.  “And you’re sure you’re not asking for alimony? I think we could get you a decent amount, help you get started when you move.”

She shook her head.  “I don’t want to push it or come off as greedy.  I’ll have family’s support if I need it. Let Bill save his money.  Maybe he can put it in college funds instead of sending it to me.”

“Again, something we should include.  You’ll get child support from him, but we’ll request he put a percentage of his salary away for the children’s future use.  You can’t touch that money, but they will when they graduate high school.”

“That sounds fair,” Sarah said.  She picked at a fingernail. This whole process was so uncomfortable that she wanted to make Bill a custody offer that was so generous that he’d have to accept it, while still letting her keep the boys.  Bill might not want to, but surely his lawyer would convince him. He’d eventually see reason.

Garrity made a few more notes and ran their offer past her one more time.  When she agreed to it, he nodded. “I’ll type this up and arrange a mediation.  Next week, probably. Mallory will call you with the details,” he said, referring to his secretary.

“Thank you,” Sarah said, glancing at the clock on the wall.  “I’m afraid I need to go. It’s time to pick my boys up from the church.”  She shook Garrity’s hand and left.

She wasn’t the only one waiting at the church for the boys.

“What are you doing here, Pam?” Sarah asked.  Had Bill sent his mom to take them from her? That was underhanded.

“Bill doesn’t know I’m here,” Pam said immediately.  “I haven’t seen them in weeks. I’d like to spend some time with my grandsons if you’ll let me.”

Sarah didn’t know what to say.  Pam  _ hadn’t _ seen the boys in a long time and she  _ was _ their grandmother.  But would she return the boys to her or to Bill?  She didn’t know where Pam stood on the upcoming divorce, but she had to assume her loyalty was with Bill.

She bit her lip.  “Pam… I don’t know.  It’s not a great time.”

“Sarah, please,” Pam begged.  “I know about the divorce. I also know Bill’s the one behind it.  I’m not here on his behalf. I just want to see my grandchildren.”  _ Before you leave with them _ was the unspoken phrase.

Sighing, Sarah relented, but with conditions.  “Can it be a supervised visit? I’ll bring them over and stay out of your hair until it’s time to leave?”  She looked at Pam apologetically. “I’m sorry to insist, but it’s Bill I don’t trust right now.”

Pam didn’t look happy about it, but she agreed.  Sarah let her go in the church to pick the boys up from their classrooms, thinking that Nathan and Wes would be happy to see her, too.

She was right.  Pam came out, holding the boys’ hands, and the boys were practically skipping.  They actually looked disappointed when they saw Sarah waiting for them.

She could understand that, she supposed.  They’d been stuck with her and only her for a week now.  They missed Bill, she knew, but she couldn’t risk letting them visit.  Bill hadn’t come back for them, but she wouldn’t put it past him to just keep them.

Sarah hated keeping the boys from their father – hopefully he’d accept the custody agreement so she could share them again – but it was important to her that she have them before the divorce.  Bill was gone all day and with all his anger, he was hardly in a state to be a good caregiver. As long as the boys were with her, she could be sure they were cared for. Having the Taylors to help didn’t hurt – they doted on them as much as Pam did.

She followed Pam’s car to the town’s biggest park, where she let the boys loose on the playground.  Sarah sat on a bench and watched Pam push the boys on the swings.

Pam was such a good grandmother.  Sarah hated that she was going to take the boys away from Jericho for many reasons, but this was a big one.  Her own parents were loving, but didn’t adore the boys the way Bill’s mom did.

After an hour of running around, the boys were exhausted enough Sarah had to carry Wes back to Pam’s car.

“Can I cook you all dinner?” Pam asked, Nathan trudging along beside her.  He perked up at the question.

Sarah smiled.  “I think they’d love that.”  She’d have to give Margaret a call and let her know not to expect them.  Hopefully that wouldn’t put the Taylors out too much.

“Come on,” Pam said to Nathan.  “I’ll make you spaghetti.”

Nathan cheered.  Sarah smiled again, glad she’d let Pam have this time with the boys.

 

Bill sat in the truck after work, debating.  Fast food again? See if there was anything worth scrounging together at home?  Or drop in on his mom and get something home-cooked?

Okay, it really wasn’t a question.

At least it wasn’t until he neared his mom’s house and saw Sarah’s van in the driveway.  Bill briefly considered driving on, but he realized that meant the boys were probably there.

He wasn’t going to pass up a chance to see them, even if it meant having to deal with Sarah’s shit.

Walking straight in like he usually did, Bill caught everyone by surprise.  His mom, Sarah, and the boys were sitting at the dining room table already eating.  Spaghetti, it looked like.

“Daddy!” cried Wes, breaking the silence that had fallen.  Sarah’s arm shot out and held him in his booster seat. Nathan just peered over the back of his chair shyly.

What did Sarah think he’d do to Wes?  Hurt his own son? Was she trying to turn them against him?

“I see I’m interrupting,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

“I didn’t know you were dropping by, Bill,” his mom said, looking guilty.

“I didn’t tell you I was coming.  Apparently I should pop in unannounced more often.”

“Your mom wanted to see the boys,” Sarah said.  “We’re leaving after dinner.”

“But when  _ I _ ask to see them, you hide them away,” Bill said sharply.

“I don’t have to worry about their well-being with Pam.”

“Their well-being?!”  Bill raised his voice before he knew what he was doing.  Everyone, including the boys, flinched. That wasn’t good.  He forced himself to relax. “Well, since we’re all here, you won’t mind if I grab a plate and join you.”  It was a statement, not a question.

Sarah glowered at him, but let go of Wes.  “As long as you understand the boys and I are leaving as soon as we finish eating.”

“Yeah.  Got that.”  He unclipped his tie and tossed it on the couch, unbuttoning his work shirt as he made his way to the kitchen.  He tried to ruffle Nathan’s hair as he passed, but Nathan shied away from him.

Ouch.

He felt something grab his leg as he ladled sauce onto his pasta.  Wes had escaped his mother.

“Hey,” Bill said, setting down his plate and picking his son up.  “I’ve missed you.” God, had he ever. He held Wes close and kissed the side of his head.

Wes pulled back, lip trembling.  “No mad,” he said plaintively.

Bill’s heart clenched.  He definitely carried around some anger still, but he hated that that’s what his son’s first thought was.  “No mad,” he assured. For Wes and Nathan, he would be civil to Sarah tonight, no matter what she did to provoke him.

Bill carried Wes back to his chair and set his plate down by Nathan, opposite Sarah.  It was almost like old family dinners except for Sarah’s sour expression and Nathan’s terrified look.

“What is it, buddy?” he asked.  “It’s just Daddy.”

Nathan looked to Sarah before answering.  What sort of things had she told the boys?  All lies, Bill was sure.

“You were mean to Uncle Jimmy,” Nathan said.  “I heard you. I heard you say mean stuff to Mama, too.”

Oh God.  Nathan must have snuck out of bed and eavesdropped on some of his and Sarah’s arguments.  Damn it, if she hadn’t started things, Nathan would be fine.

The table was silent after Nathan’s statement.  All eyes were on Bill.

“Yeah, we said some mean things,” Bill said.  “But that doesn’t mean you need to be scared. I’m still your daddy.  I’m not mad at you, Nathan, I’m so happy to see you. I miss you guys.”

His son didn’t look so sure, but he turned back to his food.  Bill frowned. Was this the best he was going to get? He needed to have  _ words _ with Sarah, it looked like.

Halfway through his plate, Sarah stood and announced that they were through and about to leave.

Bill stood when she did.  She glared at him, but he said, “I can say goodbye, can’t I?”

Wes eagerly hugged him, but Nathan was more reticent.  He only allowed Bill to lay his hand on top of his head.  Bill snuck a kiss to both boys before Nathan could pull away.  “I love you two,” he said, trying to sound as genuine as possible.  He wanted his sons to remember  _ that _ , not the fights.

The boys went to hug their grandmother next.

“Mom?  Why don’t you take the boys out to the van?  I think Sarah and I need to talk,” Bill said, staring at his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Pam looked to Sarah, too.  Why did everyone listen to her and not him?  Sarah nodded and Pam ushered the boys outside.

“What the hell have you been telling them?” Bill hissed as soon as the door closed.

“I haven’t had to tell them anything,” Sarah replied, sounding irritated.  “You’ve done all that damage yourself. Are you really so delusional as to think they didn’t notice you’ve changed?”

“And you haven’t?”  Bill laughed bitterly.  “You make it sound like you’re the perfect mom and I’m some sort of monster.  But you and I know better, don’t we? You’re even more messed up in the head than you were before.”

Sarah gripped the back of her dining chair.  He’d struck a nerve. “And you’re running off everyone who ever cared about you.  You’re going to be alone soon and you’ll regret it, but it’ll be too late. Hell, it’s already too late for me and the Taylors.  Your deputies, too, from what I hear. How’re you handling your panic attacks by yourself?” she asked, irritation turning to anger.

Bill felt himself turn red in anger.  He’d had a couple panic attacks since Sarah and the boys left and they’d been awful, but he would never admit that to her.  “I’m doing just fine.”

“You’re giving yourself an aneurysm, is what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, you keep thinking you’re funny,” Bill snapped.  “I know what you’re doing to the boys and you won’t get away with it much longer.”

“What I’m doing?  I’m taking care of them.  I’m protecting them from your fucking mood swings.  I’m doing what a parent should do, which is more than you can say about yourself the last six months.”

“Who’s protecting them from you?  Will you keep your mouth shut again if they get hurt or sick?  Let them suffer like you did our daughter?”

Sarah’s eyes flashed in anger.  “You can stop slinging that at me, damn it.  If you didn’t laugh at me every time I worried when I was pregnant with the boys, I might have said something to you.  You’ve only got yourself to blame for my silence.”

“You keep telling yourself that.  Enjoy the boys while you have them.  I know I’ll enjoy them when I get custody.”

Sarah laughed this time.  “Oh, you  _ are _ delusional, aren’t you?  The way you are, no one in their right mind would give you custody.  You’ve even got me reconsidering the offer I’m making at mediation next week.  It’s a good offer. I suggest you take it.”

“Of the two of us, who can hold a full time job without having to call out for ‘mental health days’?  Who’s got insurance? Who has a house? It’s not you.”

“Oh, I could get the house if I asked for it,” Sarah sniped.  “You’re just lucky I’m nice enough to not do that, since it’s your grandparents’ house.  Gee. I wonder what your grandfather would think of the way you’ve been treating your wife and children?  Not so proud of you anymore, I’d imagine.”

“You leave my grandparents out of this,” Bill said harshly.  “Acting as if you knew them when you’ve just heard stories.”

“I may not have ever met them, but I know  _ they _ kept their wedding vows.”  Sarah’s knuckles were white gripping the chair back.  “Unlike one of us in this room.”

“Oh, I’m the one who broke them?  You’re the one filing for divorce!”

“Because you forced it on me!”  Sarah shouted. Good, he’d pissed her off.  She deserved it. “I was still willing to work on it!  You’re the one who gave up when things got hard.”

Bill rolled his eyes.  “Oh yes, you were trying  _ so hard _ .  So hard that you did nothing but cry about it.” 

“I tried to get you to go to counseling!  You refused.”

“You really think counseling could have fixed this?” Bill asked, gesturing at them both.  “Now who’s delusional?”

Sarah looked like she wanted to say something else, but she just pursed her lips, glaring daggers.  After a moment, she walked right past him, within arm’s reach, and grabbed her bag from the couch. 

“I’m leaving and taking our sons with me.  Hope you enjoyed seeing them. This was your last chance for a long time,” she said, obviously forcing calm.  Before Bill could respond, she left, slamming the door behind her.

Bill stood where he was, steadying his breathing, until he heard his mom come back in.

“I couldn’t hear what you two were saying, but I heard the yelling,” she said.  “And if I heard it, the boys heard it. You need to watch what you do around them.”

Damn it.

“What was Sarah doing here?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I invited her and the boys over so I actually got to spend time with my grandchildren.  You may lose those boys to her and who knows if she’ll stay or not. I want all the time I can get with them and if that means I invite Sarah along, too, then I’ll do it happily.  She was quite pleasant until you showed up.”

“So you’d rather have her around?”  Bill was too angry to be hurt.

“If you’re going to be snappish and moody, then yes,” Pam said simply.  “I love you, Bill, but Sarah’s right about you changing for the worse. I want to help you, but I don’t know how to.”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Bill insisted.

Neither he nor Pam believed it.

 

They didn’t see each other again until the next week, across a table in Garrity’s office.  The lawyers greeted each other warmly. Bill and Sarah simply nodded.

Garrity signaled for everyone to sit and pulled out the proposal he and Sarah had made up.  He handed a copy to Bill and a copy to Bill’s lawyer. The lawyer looked over it, poker faced.

Bill was not so calm.  “No,” he said loudly. “You’re not doing this.  I won’t let you.”

“Don’t do this, Bill,” Sarah said, looking down at the table.  “Don’t make this into a whole thing.”

“You’re trying to take my kids.”  There was a sharpness to his voice that cut her deep.  “You’re trying to take them all the way to fucking Tennessee and keep them from me.”  He threw the custody proposal back on the table in disgust.

“I’m trying to take care of them.  I’m moving to where I can get a job to support them.  I’ll fly them out when I can, or you can. Or I’ll drive them for school breaks.  I’m not trying to keep them from you.”

“Where you can–?  I’ve  _ got _ a job  _ here _ that can support them, that  _ has _ been supporting them, without uprooting them from everything they know.”

“How long are you going to have that job?” Sarah asked, finally taking the bait and fighting back.  “You’ve alienated all your deputies, including your best friend. Without their support, how will you win?  I know Connor’s running against you. What will you do when you lose the election? Get a job as security at the mine?”

Bill banged his fist on the table.  “I’m not losing the election, damn it.  Stay in Jericho and we’ll share the kids.  Try to take them from me and I’m going to fight you, tooth and nail, and we both know you’ll give in first.  You always do.”

Bill’s lawyer reached out in front of him, making him lean back in his seat.  “I think it’s fair to say Mr. Koehler is going to reject your custody proposal.  We can prepare a counteroffer or go to court.”

Sarah looked at her lawyer.  Garrity grimaced slightly. “I’d suggest court,” he told her quietly.  “This was a reasonable and generous offer. You’re not going to get anywhere bouncing proposals back and forth.”

She nodded, biting her lip.  “I guess that means court.” As she spoke, she met Bill’s gaze.

Victory flashed in Bill’s eyes.  He was  _ that _ confident.

Should she be worried?

Sarah mentioned it to Margaret after the kids’ bedtime that night.

“Bill’s overconfident,” Margaret stated.  “He’s counting on keeping the sheriff’s job.  Thinks financial stability is the only thing judges look at, I bet you.”

“Yeah, probably.”  Sarah had to admit, she worried about that part.  For now, Bill was in the better financial situation.  She’d started looking for jobs in Chattanooga, but hadn’t applied to any; she didn’t know when this divorce would be over and she could move.

The front door opened and Sarah glanced at the microwave clock.  Ten-thirty. On time for Jimmy this week: he was working swing shift at the mine to keep an income while Bill had him on leave for pissing him off.

Sarah still felt guilty over that.

Margaret greeted her husband with a kiss and a beer.  Jimmy plopped down at the table without washing up – salt mining was surprisingly clean and didn’t cause lung issues, like other sorts of mining.  At least Sarah had that consolation – statistically, Jimmy was actually safer now than as a deputy.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Just as we expected,” Margaret answered.

“He rejected my offer and we’re going to court.”  Sarah gave a half grin. “He seems to think that it’ll turn out better for him that way.”

Jimmy shook his head and took a swig of his bottle.  “You need a character witness, I’ll be there,” he offered.  “Tell the judge about you both.”

“Garrity said our character witnesses should be the boys’ teachers and maybe their pediatrician.  But I’ll definitely suggest you, since you’ve worked with Bill since he changed. Being a deputy should help.”

“You worried?” Jimmy asked kindly.

Sarah shrugged.  “Maybe? Sorta? I  _ think _ a judge will side with me, especially if Bill blows a fuse in court, but I still worry, you know?”

“You shouldn’t.  Anyone who looks at you two now can tell who the unfit parent is.”

Sarah gave her friends a grin.  “I sure hope you didn’t mean me,” she joked.

 

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=312v5m0)

 

Two days later, Bill was still pissed off. 

The  _ gall _ of Sarah, thinking he’d just sit back and  _ let _ her take his sons across the country.  As if having them on breaks and holidays was consolation.

He paced the hall, Sadie watching him from the couch.  He knew he was making his dog nervous, but he just couldn’t sit still.

No, damn it.  Bill wasn’t going to settle for anything less than sole custody.  Let  _ her _ see what it’s like to live without the boys.

He stopped in the kitchen and took another shot of whiskey.  He needed about ten more of these if he was going to get some sleep.  Maybe even an extra benzo or two.

_ Fuck _ , he was in a bad state tonight.

Sadie was wound up enough to bark at him when he next paced the hall and he snapped at her to be quiet.  Last thing he needed was for the neighbors to complain about Sadie’s barking again.

Bill wasn’t paying her enough attention these days, he knew that.  He’d started out clinging to the dog after Sarah stole the boys, since she was all he had left in the house.  As he focused more on the campaign and the divorce, however, he’d let his attention drift. He  _ knew _ this.  He just couldn’t bring himself to change anything.

He stopped and stared into Nathan’s room.  The bed was still made, only rumpled where Bill sat on it from time to time.  A few toys still littered the floor; Bill had kept the rooms just as the boys left them.

He wanted his sons back.  He’d almost even put up with Sarah if it meant she’d bring them home. 

Almost.

Bill wandered back to the kitchen, drank two more shots and stared blankly into the sink, waiting for the alcohol to take effect.

The sunset cast long shadows from the windows.  Bill glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite eight.  The boys would be in bed, but probably just now falling asleep.

More than anything, he wanted to just go over there and force his way in to see them.  Hold them again. Bring them back to  _ their _ home and  _ their _ beds, not borrowed furniture in someone else’s house.

Angrily, Bill knocked his glass across the counter.  It hit the wall and shattered.

_ Fuck _ . 

He slid the pocket door shut to keep Sadie out of the shattered glass.

Bill couldn’t stay in this house any longer.  He’d just go crazy. He was a little too drunk to drive, but his restlessness got the better of him.

The truck tires spun as he sped out of the driveway.  Where was he going? To Bailey’s, to drink more? To Stanley’s, also probably to drink more?

He was there before he knew it.

Jimmy’s.

Bill stumbled a little getting out of the truck, but he straightened himself up.  The house was quiet and Jimmy’s car was gone.

Good.  Only the women stood between him and his sons.

He knocked loudly.  Margaret answered the door, confusion quickly turning to anger.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed.  “You smell like a still. Get the fuck off my property.”

“Not without them.”

“Yes, without them.”

Sarah appeared behind Margaret, a frown on her face.  She gently pushed her friend aside and got in Bill’s face.

“You’re drunk,” she said.  “Even if I were so inclined, you’re in no state to see them.”

“Fuck off,” Bill said, louder than he meant, and hit the wall by the door with his fist.

The women both froze.  Moments later, Bill heard Wes’ crying and he could just see Nathan trying to sneak out of the guest room.  Margaret ran back and stopped him. Woody and Sally appeared in the doors of their bedrooms, looking bewildered.

Bill pushed past Sarah.  She tried to hold him back, but she was no match for him, even drunk.

“Nathan!” he said and grabbed his son before Margaret could yank him away.

He barely registered how terrified Nathan looked before he stormed into the bedroom and picked up Wes, too.  The four year old was bawling and Nathan quickly joined him.

He had them.  He was taking them home with him, damn it. 

Margaret and Sarah tried to grab the kids, but Bill held on tight.  The boys cried louder. He was probably hurting them, but it was for their own good.  They’d see that once they were home.

He dumped them both in the back seat of the truck without putting them in their car seats.  Getting them away from Sarah’s clutches was more important right now.

“Daddy!” cried Wes.  “No be mad!”

Bill shut the door on them, locking them in, and climbed in the front seat.  Sarah, Margaret, and the Taylor kids cowered in the front yard, watching wide-eyed. 

He backed out of the driveway, trying to concentrate, but it was hard with both boys wailing.

“Shush!” he said loudly.  “You’re coming home with me.  You’re okay.”

Wes calmed a little, but Nathan tried to open the door.  Thank goodness for child locks.

“Sit down!” he barked, watching them in the rear view mirror.  Nathan froze, fear etched on his face. Silence fell over the truck, broken only by Wes’ sniffles.

“Daddy!” Nathan cried suddenly.  Bill looked back at the road, just in time to see a telephone pole.

The truck slammed straight into it before he could react.

The airbag shoved Bill back into the seat and he tried to reach into the backseat to hold the boys down, but he was too late.

Hissing filled the air as the airbag deflated and Bill looked over.

Nathan hung over the back of the front seat.  Wes was crumpled in front of him, forehead bloody.

Neither boy was moving.

 

Sarah slumped to the ground, stunned.

Bill had just… well, she couldn’t think of a word except kidnapping.

Margaret had the presence of mind to call 911.  What the deputies could do against their boss, Sarah wasn’t sure, but at least it was logged as an official call.  There was a record that Bill had done this.

Too shocked to even cry, Sarah let Margaret escort her back inside as the neighbors started coming out to see what’d happened.

Margaret talked to her, but Sarah wasn’t hearing her.  She just collapsed on the couch, staring blankly towards the TV.

“He did that.  He actually did that,” she whispered after a few minutes.

“He did, the bas–”  Margaret cut herself off when she realized her own kids were in the room.  “The jerk.”

From the guest bedroom, Sarah’s phone started ringing.

Sally ran and grabbed it for her.  Sarah looked at the caller ID – it was Connor.  Had he pulled Bill over? Did he have the boys?

“Hello?” she answered eagerly.

“Sarah,” Connor said and she knew something was wrong just from his voice.  “Lamar and I were on the way to your house and we found Bill. There was… He ran…”

“He what?” Sarah asked, blood running cold.

“He ran into a fucking telephone pole,” Connor finished.  “The boys are hurt. Doesn’t look like they were buckled in.  Lamar’s taking them to the clinic. I’m taking Bill back to the station while I figure out what to do with him.”

“Oh my God,” breathed Sarah, heart clenching.  Bill had actually hurt their children.

“I think they’ll be okay,” Connor said, trying to be reassuring, but Sarah was in no state to be consoled.  “But if you want to press charges against Bill, we’ll do it.”

Sarah didn’t know yet.  She wasn’t thinking about that, she was just thinking about the boys.  She stammered out something noncommittal.

Connor sighed.  “All right. You let me know.  I’m going to get the truck towed to the house and take Bill with me.  You don’t have to worry about him again tonight.”

Sarah hung up the phone and noticed the Taylors staring at her.  “Bill wrecked the truck. Nathan and Wes are hurt. I’ve got to meet them at the clinic.”

“I’m driving you,” Margaret said immediately.  She turned to her children. “Back to bed, both of you.  If you’re up when your dad gets home, there  _ will  _ be hell to pay.”

Woody and Sally slunk back to their rooms.

Margaret helped Sarah out to her van.  “Damn the man,” Margaret muttered. “He  _ knows _ better than to drive when he’s as drunk as he was and to put the boys in danger like that?  I could  _ kill _ him right now.”

Sarah nodded.  She would probably feel the same as soon as she saw if her sons were all right.

The clinic wasn’t busy this time of day.  Margaret and Sarah were pointed straight to one of the front rooms, where Dr. Peterson and some nurses were examining the boys.  Lamar stood outside the room. She nodded and left as soon as she saw Sarah and Margaret.

Wes was awake, but bloody.  Nathan wasn’t.

Dr. Peterson turned to see Sarah standing in the door with her hands over her mouth.  “Looks like the little one just got his head busted open. A small concussion. One of the nurses is going to stitch him up in a minute.”

Wes noticed Sarah and reached for her.  She went to him, hugging him tight without picking him up from the examination chair.  He snuggled into her side, getting blood on her clothes, but Sarah couldn’t care less; it was just good to have him in her arms again.

“And Nathan?” Margaret asked.

Dr. Peterson lifted Nathan’s shirt, showing livid bruises starting to form across his entire stomach.  “It looks like he’s got some internal bleeding as well as a head injury. I can’t be sure of the head injury until he wakes up, but we need to keep an eye on him.  I’m going to get him a CT scan to make sure he doesn’t need surgery.”

Sarah caught Margaret’s eye and the women switched places so Sarah could go to Nathan’s side.  “Baby,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “You need to wake up.”

Nathan was breathing and Dr. Peterson wasn’t acting like he was in mortal danger, so Sarah tried to draw strength from that.  Seeing her eldest hurt like this, though…

God  _ damn _ Bill.  He did this to them.  He  _ hurt _ them.

Oh, she was going for sole custody now.  He didn’t deserve the boys.

 

Connor let Bill sit in the front seat of the patrol car. 

He’d sobered quickly after seeing Nathan and Wes lying so still and knew he’d fucked up bad.  And as bad as that was, having Connor – his freaking opponent – be the one to respond to the wreck was mortifying.

Neither man said anything as Connor drove back to the station.  Connor did hold onto Bill’s arm as he walked him in; Bill wasn’t sure if it was because Connor was going to take him to a cell or if he just thought Bill needed the support.

Connor led Bill to his office.  “Stay in here,” he instructed. “You and I both know I should be arresting you on a DUI right now, but I’m holding off on that until I hear if Sarah wants to press charges.  You know she’s got grounds for kidnapping in addition to the wreck.”

He knew.  “Let me know how the boys are,” Bill asked quietly.  “When you hear.”

That got him a look.  “I shouldn’t. I should let you stew in it.”  Connor sighed. “But it’d kill me not to know about my kids, so if I hear anything, I’ll pass it on.”

Bill laughed hollowly.  “Guess you’re going to use this in your campaign, huh?”

Connor paused, as if thinking.  “Damn it, Bill, I didn’t want to run against you, you know.  I never wanted to be sheriff. But look at you! You’re making a mess of things now and  _ someone _ has to be able to do the job.  Right now that’s not you.” He rubbed his face.  “I don’t know if I’ll mention this. On the one hand, Jericho should know who they’re voting for, but on the other…  I hate to do it to you. We used to get along. You used to be a good boss.”

He stood in the doorway for a second, looking like he was going to say something else, but he closed the door behind him instead.

Bill plopped in his chair and laid his head on his desk.  What the fuck had he done to his life tonight?

He lay still until a knock came on the glass.  He looked up to see Lamar. 

She let herself in.  “Wes is gonna be fine.  Just a cut on his scalp that needs stitches and a concussion.  Nathan was still unconscious when I left. They were going to do a scan to see if he needs surgery to fix internal bleeding.”

Bill felt sick.  Surgery? On his not quite six year old?  No child should need that.

No child whose dad wasn’t a drunken fool.

He buried his face in his hands.  “Thank you for telling me,” he said quietly.  He heard the door close again.

After a while, he looked up and saw Connor sitting at his desk, working on  _ something _ .  The accident report, probably.  Lamar was gone, presumably patrolling again.

The quiet was almost overbearing, but Bill wasn’t about to strike up a conversation.  What would he say anyway?

Ten o’clock rolled around and Riley and Salem came in for their shift.  They both did a double take, seeing Bill, but Connor talked to them. Bill was mortified all over again, knowing that all his deputies would hear about his drunken wreck, his children’s injuries.

All eyes turned to his office and his face burned red in shame.

Salem took a seat at his desk and Riley headed out to patrol.  Lamar and Connor packed their things and left.

Bill laid his head back down.

Sometime around midnight, his cell phone rang.

Sarah.

He answered but was cut off right away.

“Don’t say a thing.  I’m so mad at you I could scream.  We’re in Rogue River and Nathan just got out of surgery.  They had to stop some major bleeding and drain the blood that was already there.  He’s going to be fine, no thanks to you. I hope you’re self-aware enough to see why I’m trying to keep them away from you.  You traumatized them  _ and _ hurt them.  You’re no father.”

She hung up before he could respond.

Bill buried his head in his hands, trying not to cry.  Trying to be strong. Trying to be thankful that Nathan and Wes were going to be okay instead of hating himself for hurting them in the first place.

It didn’t work.

 

Nathan was released from the hospital the next evening and went straight back to bed at the Taylors’.  Sarah stroked his cheek as he slept and snuck a peek at his stomach. The bruising was receding, thank God.  The surgical wound was bandaged tightly – it was smaller than Sarah had feared it would be.

Wes sat in his bed and watched his mom.  Sarah idly thought that Nathan was too big for the toddler bed now, but they didn’t have a real bed for him.  Maybe he could sleep with her? Or was it even worth messing with? After Bill’s actions tonight, the divorce might go through quickly.

She stood and hugged Wes.  “You okay, sweetheart?” she asked.  “I know last night was scary but you’re okay now, I promise.”

Wes nodded, but he still looked on edge.

Sarah sighed.  Bill, what did you do to your kids?  How was she going to navigate through the aftermath?  How was she going to help the boys get past it?

“It’s bedtime, baby.  You need to lie down. Do you need me to stay in here with you?”

Wes nodded again, sitting down in the bed.  Sarah waited until he was lying down and tucked him in.  She stroked his hair and recited one of his favorite stories from memory.  He must have been exhausted, because his eyes closed halfway through the story.  She finished it, just in case he was still awake, then snuck out of the room.

Margaret and Jimmy were waiting for her.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” Jimmy said.  “I could have stopped him.”

Sarah shook her head.  “Maybe. He was prepared to get physical.  I wouldn’t want you hurt.”

“If it kept the kids from getting hurt, it’d’ve been worth it.”

Sarah gave Jimmy a sad smile.  She appreciated how far the Taylors were willing to go for her and her children, but she hated the position it put them in.

“Are you pressing charges?” Jimmy asked.  “I’ll help you file them.”

Sarah slumped onto the couch.  “I don’t know. That’d torpedo his chances at the election, I think.  And for all he’s done, I don’t want to  _ sabotage  _ him.”

“It’s hardly sabotage when it was all his doing,” Margaret said.

Sarah just leaned her head back against the couch and stared at the outdated popcorn ceiling.

Margaret could tell they needed to back off.  “Go to bed,” she said. “Talk to Garrity in the morning, get his advice.”

That made sense.  “Yeah. I think I’ll do that, if you’ll stay here with Nathan while I go.”

She went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.  She hadn’t heard from any deputy today, so she didn’t know what happened to Bill.  She called Connor, speaking quietly.

“He slept it off at the office and stayed quiet all day.  I didn’t arrest him because I didn’t want it to look like a campaign thing.”

Sarah understood that.

“I’d press charges if I were you,” Connor suggested.  “Not because I think it’ll help me in the end, but because I think Bill was way over the line.  He did break the law and he did hurt your kids. He needs to see some consequences for that.”

“I still don’t know,” Sarah said.  Everyone was telling her to press charges, but she still wasn’t sure.  Would it mess up the boys any further to see their dad on trial?

He sighed.  “Well, whatever you do, I’ve mailed you a copy of the report.  Give it to your lawyer. He’ll be able to use it for your benefit in court.”

“Thank you,” she said.  “I appreciate all your help last night.”

“Anytime.  You take care, Sarah.  I’m sorry you have to go through all this.”

Sarah bid Connor goodnight and sat in the dark, listening to her sons breathe.  They were both breathing deep and even, music to her ears.

As quietly as possible, she changed into pajamas and crawled into bed.  She lay there, thinking, until the wee hours of the morning.

What was the right thing to do?  Connor was right, Bill needed consequences.  But should those consequences be legal ones or losing custody of the boys?  Which was more appropriate?

She wished she knew.

 

The truck wasn’t quite totaled, but it was a mess.  It left Bill without a vehicle and – for now – he still had a job to go to.

He was feeling less and less confident about the election every day.  He also didn’t know what to expect going into work – was Sarah going to press charges?  Would Connor change his mind about not charging him with a DUI?

Stanley had offered to let him borrow one of the farm trucks for the time being, but he hadn’t been able to meet Bill’s eyes when he and Bonnie dropped it off.  Bonnie was a little more animated, calling him stupid and a few other signs that were much ruder.

Probably deserved it, Bill thought.

This was his first regular day’s work since the accident.  First time he’d put on the uniform. He stared at himself in the mirror and for the first time, felt like he didn’t belong in it.

He wore it anyway, went into work, and did his job.  That was the only way out of this that he saw. He’d fucked up, but he couldn’t change the past.  He  _ could _ change the future.  He hoped.

As usual, only their dispatcher was there when he went into work.  He’d hired a new kid to replace him when he got this job a few years ago and last month, he’d hired another new kid to replace Jimmy.  It irked him that daytime shift had the two newest deputies, but everyone else was satisfied with their schedule and didn’t want to change.  Lamar and Connor liked second shift because there was more action than the others and Riley and Salem liked the overnight shift because it was the opposite.

And then there was Bill, the only eight to fiver in the office.

He settled in and started reviewing reports, but froze.  The very first report in his inbox was his own wreck.

A notation at the bottom said that Sarah was declining to press charges and that Connor wasn’t going to pursue a DUI conviction either.

A wave of relief washed over him, but it was mixed with trepidation.  He’d deserved to be charged, he knew, and good things just didn’t happen to him lately.  What was coming?

As if on cue, his office phone rang.  He recognized his lawyer’s number on the caller ID.

“I’ve got a copy of the report your wife’s lawyer sent to me and I’ve got to tell you, this isn’t good,” Sims said almost as soon as he picked up.  “What were you thinking? I thought I told you to stay away.”

Bill rubbed one of his temples, phone in the other hand.  “I wasn’t thinking, was the problem.”

“Apparently.”  Sims sighed. “Okay, we’ve got some damage control to do if you want any custody of the kids.  You’re damn lucky she’s not pressing charges or there’d be no hope. As it is, we can downplay this.  I just need you to come up with character witnesses that have seen you with your children. Teachers, doctors, pastors, anyone like that.  If we can convince the judge this was a heat of the moment, crime of passion sort of thing caused by how much you need your children…”

Bill racked his brain.  Who knew him with the boys that Sarah wouldn’t have gotten to already?  He was coming up blank. “I’ll work on that.”

“You do that.  Get back to me ASAP on it.  Court is only a week and a half away.  And once custody is settled, we can focus on the actual divorce.  That shouldn’t take long; I’m assuming she doesn’t want the house since she’s moving.  She might want you to sell the house and split the profits with her, so be warned.”

Like hell.  Bill wasn’t selling his grandparents’ house.  He’d worked too hard to own it outright  _ before _ the wedding.

On instinct, his eyes glanced to the corner of his desk where a picture of Sarah used to sit.  He still had pictures of the boys, but he felt a pang at the missing photo.

He shook it off.  There was no going back now.  He didn’t want to go back. Sarah wouldn’t want to.  No use thinking about her.

 

Sarah sat in Garrity’s office, the last meeting before the custody arbitration.

“How are your sons?” he asked as he sat down at his desk.

“Better, at least physically.  They have their stitches out, but Nathan seems like he’s still a little sore.  And they’re both getting nightmares and night terrors.”

Garrity made a sympathetic noise.  “And can your deputy friend attest to that, too?”

Sarah huffed a laugh.  “Yeah. Nathan screams loud enough to wake the whole house.”

“Good.  We’ll definitely have to bring that up tomorrow.”  He looked up and saw the look on her face. “I know you said you didn’t want to drag his reputation through the mud, but this isn’t a public hearing.  You need to be as honest as possible. He traumatized those boys. The judge needs to know that.”

Taking a deep breath, Sarah agreed.  “You’re right.”

“Now, once the custody is worked out, you can dictate the terms of the divorce.  How do you want to split the assets?” Garrity brought out his yellow notepad. “You already said you don’t want the house, but I highly recommend splitting your savings.”

“He’ll argue that he earned that money, not me.”

“As a married couple without a pre-nup, that money was held jointly, no matter who earned it.  From what you told me, it was meant for both of you in retirement. You’ll need it getting started over in Tennessee.”

He made sense.  “Okay. Split the KPERS retirement plan, split what’s in the bank.”

“We’ll try for fifty-fifty, but he may argue for a larger percentage.  Think of what you’re willing to compromise on.” Garrity made notes and they discussed what she should expect at the hearing tomorrow.

“Do I bring the boys?” she asked.  She didn’t want to, but if Garrity said it would help…

He thought about it.  “If they’re visibly scared of him, it might help, but it’s your call.  Is it worth exposing them to this? If Bill is as volatile as he’s been, he may have an outburst.  Do you want them to see that?”

Sarah nodded.  “You’re right. I wasn’t planning on bringing them for that reason, but I wanted to see what you thought.”

“Take care of them.  Leave them at home. Come dressed nicely and we’ve got this in the bag.”

Sarah prayed that was true.

 

The judge handed back the custody orders and Bill took his copy numbly.

He’d really believed he’d get more than this.  Sarah didn’t even have a job yet, damn it! But she had her parents and a plan to take Nathan and Wes far away from him; apparently that’d been enough.

Sole custody for Sarah.  He’d lost his sons completely.

His lawyer had warned him it was a possible outcome – his drunken car wreck was a big issue – but he thought his case was tight anyway.  He had a good job, with good insurance. His mom would pick the boys up from school and watch them until he got off work. It was a  _ good _ plan.  He had everything covered.

Instead he got child support payments and no children.  He should have taken the arrangement that Sarah had originally offered.  The only consolation was that she still hadn’t pushed for alimony.

He glanced across the room and caught her watching him sympathetically.  That was close enough to gloating that it pissed him off more. He turned his back on her.

It was the damn character witnesses, he thought.  Of course the boys’ teachers knew Sarah better – because  _ he was at work _ .   _ Providing for them _ so that Sarah could stay home most of the time.  And then Jimmy’s testimony had been the nail in his coffin.  Attesting that he couldn’t emotionally support them – who did he think he was?

_ Fuck _ Jimmy Taylor.  Fuck Sarah. Fuck this judge and fuck his useless lawyer.

“Bill,” Sarah’s soft voice came from behind him.

“What?” he snapped, turning back around.

“Straighten up and we’ll rework this.  Get your shit together and I’ll even go back to my original offer.  You’re not in any shape to be a father right now, but I think you can fix that.”

“Oh, you do?”  Bill tried to reign in his anger and sorrow.  “How  _ generous _ of you.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “It is. And if you were in your right mind, you’d realize that.  You’d realize this is for the best right now.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he said.

Sarah pursed her lips.  “I’ll see you in a couple of days.  I suggest you sign the divorce agreement I give you then or we’ll end up in another situation like this.”

“Planning on taking everything from me?” he sniped.

She shook her head, the sympathetic expression returning.  “Bill, I’m just trying to take care of the boys. I’m not after what’s yours.  I just want what I’m fairly entitled to. It’ll all go towards Nathan and Wes anyway, so you ought to be okay with it.”

“Towards providing what I could already give them, you mean.”

Her eyes widened.  “What you could–? They’re terrified of you, Bill.  How could you  _ want _ to keep scaring them?”

Bill still believed Sarah had a lot to do with that fear, but he held his tongue.  “I’ve got to get back to work,” he said shortly. “One of us actually has a job. And apparently child support payments for kids I don’t get to see.”

He didn’t even wait for his lawyer.  He left the courtroom and got in his borrowed truck.  He wanted to hit something, but he couldn’t risk hurting Stanley’s truck.  Instead, he sped back to Jericho, screaming in rage, windows down. 

There were tears, too, but he told himself it was just a side effect of the wind in his face.

 

Bill seemed defeated, Sarah noticed at their divorce arbitration.  Maybe he was realizing he didn’t have a good argument. Maybe losing the boys was waking him up.  She hoped so.

He signed the divorce papers without argument.  He even went ahead and wrote her a check for half of their bank savings; the retirement plan would take longer.

“Thank you,” Sarah said, trying to catch his eye across the table.

He shrugged.  “Just use it to take care of the boys.  Tell them I love them.”

“I’ll tell them,” Sarah promised, but she didn’t think they’d listen.  “Please get your act together so you can see them again. So you can have a relationship with them again.”

Garrity stood and she followed him back into his office.  After a final discussion of what would happen going forward, including paying Garrity’s fees, she left, divorce papers in hand.

She sat in the Taylors’ driveway for a bit and cried.  She’d married Bill believing they would stay together to the end.  She hadn’t thought such cruelty and carelessness was in his nature.  Some anger? Yes, but she’d tempered that for so long, as had being partnered with Jimmy.  Some recklessness? Also true, but she had the same. Having each other then having kids had squashed that, or so she thought.

She was a divorcée now.  Something she’d sworn never to be.  She’d sworn to only marry if it was forever.

So much for that.  Bill had crushed those ideas.

She sniffled and pulled a makeup wipe from her purse, washing her face of tears before she went back in.

Margaret greeted her with a hug.  The boys were at the church today and Pam was picking them up – Sarah was trying to let her enjoy her grandsons while she could – so it was just her and Margaret in the house.

Sarah held up the papers.  “It’s official. We both signed it.”

“Oh, honey.”  She was pulled into another hug.  “So what’s next?”

“Arranging the move to Tennessee, I suppose.  The boys and I are free and clear of Bill now.”

Margaret smiled sadly.  “I’m glad this is all over, but I’m going to miss you like crazy.”

Sarah shrugged one shoulder.  “Bill doesn’t get visitation, but that doesn’t mean I can’t bring them back to see Pam.  We might could work something out.”

“I sure hope so.”

“And you know you guys are welcome in Chattanooga any time.”

“If we can make it,” Margaret promised.

Sarah knew they probably wouldn’t ever be able to, but there was always a little bit of hope.

She sighed.  “Guess I better call my parents.  And maybe go to Pam’s for dinner. She deserves to hear it face to face.  And I can start trying to ease the boys into this.”

“You need to take our furniture?” Margaret asked.  She’d offered before, but it was nice of her to offer again.

“No, we’ll get them new beds.  It’s time to bump them both up.  They’re both so close to outgrowing the toddler beds.”

Sarah spent the afternoon on the phone with her mother, making plans.  She still had the credit cards she shared with Bill and the divorce agreement said she could use them to pay for the gas on the drive to Tennessee, then she would destroy them.  Her mom offered to wire her some cash for emergencies and Sarah accepted gratefully. 

She and the boys would stay with her parents until she got a job and they found an apartment or house to rent.  The adults were likely to drive each other crazy until Sarah and the boys moved out, but it was the best option they had.

The move would happen in a week.  That should give Sarah enough time to plan and pack and let the boys say goodbye to their friends and grandmother.

Maybe even their father.

Sarah plopped down on her bed, lying back and staring at the ceiling again.  She didn’t look forward to uprooting Nathan and Wes, but this was what was best… wasn’t it?

Damn her second thoughts.  Of course it was better. Some part of her thought maybe, if Bill straightened up, she could move back to Jericho and share them.  For now, though, it was best to be far away from him. Let the boys heal from the damage he’d done them. That the whole divorce caused.  She knew she wasn’t entirely blameless in this.

Damn it, Bill.  Get your shit together and you can see them again, she thought.  They need a father. She could love them like crazy, but she could never fill the hole Bill’s absence would leave.

 

Stanley stood aside and let Bill in.

He knew he looked haunted and hollow right now.  He’d seen his face in the rear view mirror.

“Thought you had work, man.”

Bill sat on one of the couches and buried his face in his hands.  “Needed to get it together first,” he mumbled.

Stanley sat next to him.  “It’s over, huh?”

Bill nodded.  “She got half the money and both the kids.  I’ve got nothing but the house and Sadie. And child support payments.”

“That’s rough.”  Stanley squeezed his shoulder.  “Do you know when they’re leaving?”

“Tomorrow?  Next week? Next month?  I’ve got no clue.”

“She gonna let you say goodbye?”

“Probably not,” Bill sighed.  “Not after the shit I did.”

He knew Stanley was frowning.  His friend had yelled at him over the car wreck already and Bonnie was thoroughly put out with him for being so stupid.

“Tell the truth,” he instructed.  “Did I get what I deserved?  _ Should _ I not be around my sons?”

Stanley was quiet for a minute.  “Not until you get things together, maybe.  You can still pull out of this, Bill. You can try to rework the custody agreement, maybe after a year of good behavior?  I have to say, you should probably stop drinking.”

“I’m not an alcoholic.”  Bill peered at Stanley irritably.

“I didn’t say that!”  Stanley held up his hands in surrender.  “Just that you don’t make the best decisions drunk.  And you seem to spend a lot of your nights that way these days.  Here and at home.”

He was right, Bill knew.  He rubbed his face quickly and stood.  “Guess I gotta get back to work.”

“I’m sorry it turned out like this,” Stanley said from the doorway.

“Yeah, me too,” Bill muttered.  He remembered how happy he’d been the night he decided on divorce, how he thought it would make life better.

He’d been wrong.

 

Tomorrow, Sunday, they would leave Jericho for good.  The boys had cried over it and so had Pam. Sarah and Margaret and Jimmy all tried to think of the right words to say – to the kids, to each other – but no one really knew. 

Today, it was Saturday and time for all the lasts.

Sarah checked that her pistol was positioned properly in her corset holster before unlocking the car doors.

Funny that the holster was one of the things that first attracted Bill to her and now she was using it to protect against him.

She couldn’t say no when he asked to see the boys before they left, but she also couldn’t shake the suspicion that Bill had ulterior motives.  Would he hold the boys in the house and try to run her off so she couldn’t take them with her?

Sarah was prepared to stand her ground if he did.  She had the custody order on her side.

It gutted her that she couldn’t trust Bill to follow the court orders.  The old Bill would follow them religiously, even if he hated them. But if he’d stayed his old self, they wouldn’t be in this situation.  She felt sorry for him, but he’d brought all this upon himself.

She unlocked the van doors and unclipped the boys from their carseats.  They both waited for her and held her hands as they walked to the front door of what used to be their house.

With some prompting, Wes reached up and rang the doorbell.  Bill answered almost immediately. He had eyes only for the boys, which suited Sarah just fine.

He seemed a shadow of the man he used to be, she noted.  He obviously wasn’t eating properly and had lost weight, even in the week since she’d seen him last.  HIs expressions didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Will you hug me?” he asked the boys.

They held on to Sarah’s hands.

“It’s okay,” she told them, kneeling to their level.  “Daddy just wants to say goodbye to you. You’re still going with Mama.”

Surprisingly, Nathan was the first to go to Bill.  Had he forgiven his father for hurting him?

Bill wrapped his arms around Nathan gently, though Sarah could see his muscles twitch – he was making an effort not to squeeze the boy as tight as he really wanted to.

“I love you so much, Nathan,” he whispered.  “Remember that. I’m going to miss you lots and I’m sorry I hurt you.  I never meant to do that.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Nathan said.

Sarah looked down at Wes, who was watching her.  “It’s okay, baby. You can go to him.”

Wes took a step forward cautiously and Bill enveloped him in the hug as well.  He repeated what he’d told Nathan.

Wes didn’t say anything to Bill.  He looked back at Sarah and asked, “Sadie?”

Sarah looked at Bill, who finally met her eyes.  They were dull, not the beautiful golden color she’d fallen in love with.

“Yeah, kiddos.  I’ll go get Sadie.”  He held Sarah’s gaze.  “Can they come in to see her?”

Sarah nodded.  “We’ll all come in.”

Bill went to let Sadie in from the backyard and Sarah stood in the hallway, glancing into the kitchen and the living room.  Dishes were piled in the sink and newspapers were stacked by his chair – Sadie had dutifully shredded some, it looked like. She was shocked.  Even when Bill lived alone before they got married, he’d been neat and tidy, and that had carried over into their marriage.

He really  _ was _ a different person.

Sadie burst into the kitchen from outside and both boys cried out in joy.  They loved Sadie and Sarah was sorry they had to leave her. She’d never try to take Sadie from Bill, however.  Maybe she could get some cats once they had their own place and the boys would warm up to them.

While the boys petted Sadie and got licked in return, Sarah watched Bill.  “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Don’t ask me that,” he replied.  “I’m saying goodbye to my children for God knows how long and you want to know if I’m  _ okay _ ?”

“True.  I’m sorry I asked.”

Bill looked at her closely.  “You’re carrying,” he said, inclining his head towards her torso.  Should have known Bill would be able to tell; he’d seen her carry this way more times than she could count.  “Just in general or did you think you’d need to protect them from me?”

She met his eyes.  “I didn’t know if you’d try something drastic.  And since you carry all the time, I figured it put us on even ground.”

He turned his attention back to the boys.  “I’ve done them enough harm. I want them to remember me saying I love them, not me hurting them.”

“I don’t know what they’ll remember,” Sarah said.  “But I don’t vilify you to them. I want them to reconcile with you someday.  I want you to get better so we can share them.”

Bill nodded and bent down next to Wes.  He put his hand on Wes’ back, making the little boy jump.  “It’s okay, Wes. It’s just me. Look, Sadie still trusts me.”  He stuck out his hand and Sadie licked him happily before flopping over and showing her belly.  Nathan and Wes both went in to rub it.

He stayed down there, talking to the boys, petting Sadie.  Sarah watched the bittersweet visit for another fifteen minutes, when Sadie finally got tired of the stimulation and ran off down the hallway.

“I think that’s our cue,” she said softly.

Bill looked at her desperately.  “So soon?”

“We’ve been here half an hour, Bill.”

“That’s not enough.”

“I told your mom we’d eat lunch with her,” Sarah said.

“Let me come with you.”         

She shook her head.  “That’s not a good idea.”

They stared at each other for a minute, but Sarah refused to back down.  Bill broke first and slouched as he hugged both boys again.

“I love you.  Be good for your Mama.  I’m sorry this happened.  I hope I get to see you again.”  Tears glistened in his eyes.

Sarah almost said something about him being the crier now, but held her tongue.  Now was not the time, even if she felt bitter.

Both Nathan and Wes muttered a goodbye, but neither boy returned Bill’s declaration of love.  It quite obviously broke his heart.

He kissed them and held them until Sarah cleared her throat.

Reluctantly, Bill stood and the boys ran back to Sarah’s side.

“Goodbye, Bill,” she said.  There were a lot of years of love behind those words, but they’d all been blown away by a few months of pain and anger.

“Goodbye, Sarah,” he said, choking up.  “Goodbye, Nathan. Goodbye, Wes. Be safe tomorrow.  I love you.”

In the car, on the way to Pam’s, Sarah choked up, too.  She’d never wanted this. Once upon a time, she’d never wanted to say goodbye to Bill.  Never thought she would.

The boys heard her crying.  Wes started sniffling too, taking his cue from her.  Nathan leaned forward as far as he could in his carseat. 

“It’s okay, Mama.  Don’t be sad,” he said.

Her five year old was trying to comfort her.  It had the opposite effect and made Sarah cry harder.  “I’m okay, baby,” she said when she caught a breath. “Saying goodbye is just hard sometimes.”

Sarah dropped the boys off with Pam.  She had another goodbye to say, this one by herself.

Leaving Jericho meant she was leaving Libby.  She was going to bawl, she knew it, and she didn’t want the boys to see her like that.

At the cemetery, Sarah leaned up against Libby’s headstone, remembering the tiny casket they’d buried there.  The tiny girl they’d put in the casket.

She talked to Libby, as if the baby could hear and understand her.  Told her how sorry she was to leave her, how it wasn’t her fault the divorce happened.  How much Sarah still loved her and that she wouldn’t ever forget her. That if she had any influence in Heaven, how much her dad needed a guardian angel these days.

Sarah was right.  She did bawl, ugly snotty painful crying, so hard she gave herself a headache.

Once the tears subsided, Sarah sat there for a bit, one hand on the ground, touching the grave.  “Love you, baby girl. I’m sorry I’m leaving you,” she whispered one last time.

Time to face Pam and the boys again, then the Taylors.

Saying goodbye was so damn hard.

 

Stanley was Bill’s liaison.  Sarah still talked to him, so he called to check in on the boys frequently, passing the news to Bill.

They made it to Chattanooga safely.

Sarah had them signed up for school: preschool for Wes and first grade for Nathan.

They were settling in, though they missed Sadie.

Sarah found a job at a bank.  It had benefits, so the boys would come off Bill’s insurance as soon as Sarah’s kicked in.

Sarah got his first child support check, thank you.

She’d found a two bedroom apartment in her price range.  They’d move in at the beginning of September.

Her parents were throwing a party for Nathan’s sixth birthday.  Mostly family, since he didn’t know any kids there yet.

That last bit stuck in Bill’s mind.  He felt so bad his son was turning six without friends.  Without him.

“Ask Sarah if I can call Nathan on his birthday,” he instructed Stanley.  He’d thought about calling without asking – the custody order didn’t say anything about phone calls – but decided this was the best way to go about it.  He didn’t want to give Sarah a nasty surprise when she answered the phone; she was likely to just hang up on him then.

Stanley did.  Sarah said yes and Bill’s heart could have exploded with joy.

Bill imagined his sons were out in Tennessee, as lonely as he felt in Kansas.  They’d been taken away from almost everyone they’d ever known; he’d been left by almost everyone he knew.  At least they had the start of a new school year to look forward to. Bill just had an election he was increasingly worried about.

He turned quiet.  Oh, the anger was still there, but it boiled under the surface instead of being expressed.  He couldn’t quite let go of it yet. So he was quiet instead, barely talking to anybody unless he had to.

Ironically, the deputies seemed to think he was more intimidating now than when he’d been yelling.  They tiptoed around him like he was a bomb.

You know what?  Maybe he was. He’d been fine for so many years and then Libby happened – and he exploded.  Something else might set him off. 

Where would he be left if it happened again?

 

Find a date.  Find some friends.  Be social.

That’s what Sarah’s mom kept telling her, but Sarah just wasn’t feeling it.  She wanted to keep her head down, go to work, and focus on the boys when she got home.  She’d reverted back to how she was before moving to Jericho, except that this time she had two little people counting on her.

Nathan and Wes needed her, she knew.  Needed a touchstone from home – and here she was, still thinking of Jericho as home – and needed someone to guide them through the process of settling in and moving on.

Besides, the idea of dating still felt like cheating.  Even after all Bill did to her and the boys, there was some loyalty left.  Sarah didn’t know why; Bill didn’t deserve it and the boys needed to have a father figure other than their grandfather.

She sighed and hung another streamer.  Nathan’s party was in an hour and she was trying to get the last bit of decorating in before people started arriving.

Her cell phone rang.  Bill. She’d expected this – at least he hadn’t called during the party.  She just hoped the call didn’t upset Nathan.

“Bill,” she said by way of greeting.

“Hi, Sarah,” he said, almost meekly.  “Can I talk to Nathan?”

Sarah glanced into the backyard where her dad was attempting to teach the boys how to throw a football.  “Yeah,” she said after a second. “Let me go get him.”

She carried the phone to the back door and called Nathan’s name.  He ran up, panting a little in the August heat. “It’s your dad,” she said.  “He wants to tell you happy birthday.”

Nathan looked askance at the proffered phone, but he took it.

“Hi, Daddy.  Uh-huh. Yeah.  Thank you. Yeah, I miss home but Mama says I’m gonna have fun.  Says I’m going to get a proper southern accent.”

Sarah swatted Nathan lightly on the back for that one.  She’d said it jokingly, but apparently it’d stuck.

“Granddaddy is teaching us to throw a football.  No, he doesn’t have a baseball.” Nathan looked up at her as if he was running out of things to say.

Sarah took the phone back.  “Bill, I hate to cut you off, but we’ve got guests arriving,” she lied.  Nathan ran back outside as quickly as he could.

The defeat in his voice was blatant.  “Okay,” he said. “I mailed a present that should get there today or tomorrow.  I may mail a second present too. Something for both of them.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to.  Tell them I love them, please.”

“I will,” Sarah promised.  She always told them but didn’t know if they believed it.  Leaning in the back door, watching the boys with her dad, she hung up the phone.

 

School started a week after Nathan’s birthday.  In a mirror of their Jericho days, Sarah dropped the kids off on her way to work while her mom picked them up in the afternoon.  She hated missing out on their afternoons, but the bank job was a good one and at least she didn’t have to pay her mom for childcare.  She’d offered, of course, and was promptly turned down.

Sarah came home the first day after school tired – it’d been a long day with some difficult customer issues and even more difficult coworkers.  She’d had the job for a month now, so she knew most every procedure and rule, but sometimes there were things that surprised her – something a certain few coworkers liked to rag her on. 

It was tough to think that this was her life from now on; no more working three days a week and taking care of the boys the rest of the time.  No more of the life she’d wanted and worked for.

Being greeted by her sons made the tough day worth it, though.  She still had them.

“How was school?” she asked, holding their hands as they led her to the kitchen, where Sarah’s mom was cooking dinner.  “Hey, mom.”

Nancy nodded hello and Nathan proudly showed Sarah his new take-home folder.  She didn’t expect homework, but his teachers could send her stuff this way. Today, it was a mass of forms for her to fill out and return in the morning.

“Did you make friends?” Sarah asked.

Nathan shrugged.  “Not really.”

“Why not?”  She stroked his hair, thinking he needed a haircut soon.

“Dunno.  Didn’t want to.”

Sarah hugged him to hide her frown.  He was at first grade at a private school that didn’t offer preschool.  All the kids there should be new. Nathan should have been able to make friends as easily as anyone else.  What happened to her outgoing little boy?

Wes was more reticent to talk about his day. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, gently pulling his fingers from his mouth – he was getting a nail-biting habit, too, just like Nathan.

“Wanna go home,” he whispered.  “Don’t like it. Miss Grandma.”

Sarah started to correct his grammar, but his words hurt.  She pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry, baby. We can’t go home.  But maybe if Mama can get the time off work, over fall break we can visit Grandma.”  That was a big maybe, but it might help Wes carry on through the rough first days.

She’d expected Wes to have a harder time; he’d always been shyer than Nathan.  Knowing that didn’t make it easier to watch.

“Tell you what, guys.  I want each of you to make a friend this week,” she instructed.  “If you do, we’ll go to McKay’s and you can pick out two books and one movie each.”

That cheered them up.  The huge used bookstore had already become a favorite place in the month and a half they’d been in Tennessee.

“Any homework?” she asked, not expecting any.  They both shook their heads no. “Good. Go play outside until dinner, okay?”  She shooed them out the back door.

“You can’t expect them to adapt immediately,” Nancy said.

“I know, Mom,” Sarah sighed.  “I’d still hoped it’d be easier than this.”

“They’re taking their cues from you.  You need to perk up and put yourself out there.”

Sarah stared out the window for a bit, watching the boys toss the baseball Bill had sent them.  He’d always liked baseball better than football and had been determined the boys would too. He was probably out of luck; the south and her family were all firmly football fans.  Baseball got ignored in this house.

Still, it was a little bit of home.  That baseball had memories attached to it, along with bite marks from Sadie.  The boys seemed to miss her most of all; Nancy’s cat just wasn’t the same.

“Did you hear me?” Nancy asked.

Sarah pushed back the slight nostalgia.  “Yeah, I heard you. I just want to get them settled first.  Then I’ll worry about me.”

“You didn’t hear me, then.  You’ve got to work on you at the same time.  They’re never going to let go of the past unless you show them how.”

“Okay.”  Sarah was as non-enthusiastic as Nathan had been.  “You still doing okay with them in the afternoons? I know they’re a little young for you…”

Nancy had always professed a dislike of babies and small children, but she put up with her grandchildren.  “Put up with” was the best descriptor: she didn’t dote on them or spoil them often.

“We’re making it work.”

“Where’s Dad?”  Ken usually beat Sarah home every day.  She could usually count on him to play with the boys or have them help him in the garage.

“Ran to the store to get stuff for an oil change.  Why that man won’t just stock up when they have a sale, I don’t know,” Nancy huffed.

“He’d have to store it, then,” Sarah pointed out.  “It’d kill him to have things around that aren’t strictly necessary.”

Before long, Ken returned and dinner was served.  It was a quiet night. The boys weren’t chattering as usual and Sarah was still tired.  Nancy carried the conversation.

Listening was tiring, too.  After dinner, Sarah gathered the boys and took them back to their apartment.  The boys ran to their shared room and she sat down to start in on all their school paperwork.  It took her until bedtime to finish.

She helped Nathan pick out clothes for the morning, re-packed his backpack, and sent him to brush his teeth.  Wes had a meltdown because his favorite shirt was dirty and Sarah hadn’t done laundry yet, but he eventually calmed down some.  There were still a few sniffles while Sarah read him to sleep, but he fell asleep quickly, worn out by the tantrum.

Nathan took longer to get to sleep, but he always did.  He managed to prolong the process a half hour past his usual lights-out time.

Times like these, Sarah missed having someone to split bedtime duties with.   _ She _ was ready for bed as soon as Nathan conked out.

Not yet, though.  She tossed a load of laundry in the closet unit and waited to throw it in the dryer before she got ready for bed.  Maybe Wes would be happier if he had his favorite shirt in the morning.

She’d give anything to see the boys truly happy again.  It’d been so long, she was afraid they’d forgotten what happiness felt like.

 

Bill and Sarah worked out a schedule where he got to call the boys each week.  Bill tried, but Wes never quite warmed up to their phone calls. Nathan at least started talking to Bill, but he was still having trouble at school, so the talks weren’t all cheerful.

He told his sons he loved them, that things would get better, that he believed in them.

Eventually, Sarah began talking to him again.  Nothing deep, just extra anecdotes about the boys from her and updates on Jericho news from him.

The day before the election, she even wished him good luck.

Election night itself, Bill didn’t call.

He found himself back at the cemetery instead.  He hadn’t been here in months, but tonight it felt like the place to be.

He sprawled across the plots next to Libby, the spaces that had been meant for him and Sarah, and stared at the stars.

He’d lost.

Lost everything, really.

He had no job.  No wife. Libby was his only child left in Kansas and she was dead.  He’d run off one of his oldest friends and the other seemed to just barely put up with him.

He’d wanted this.  He’d seen his life start to fall apart and he’d urged it on.  What the fuck had he been thinking?

He’d been so mad at Sarah for crying all the time but tonight, Bill cried.  Not just because of the election. Because he was so lost he didn’t even recognize himself anymore.

Was this what rock bottom felt like?  He couldn’t imagine things getting too much worse.

“I’m not much of a dad,” he told Libby’s grave.  “Not much of a man in general these days. Maybe you should be glad you didn’t have to deal with me.”

He lay there until the November chill crept into his bones.  When it finally became too much, he picked himself up and headed home.

Tomorrow would be a walk of shame.  Technically he still had a job for the next little bit – he had to train Connor, but Bill didn’t think it would take long.  He’d have to hand over all his badges and he’d have no status in the department anymore.

And then he’d have to find something new.  Sheriff or not, he still had to make child support.

Bill tried to think of things he was qualified to do, but only came up with Sarah’s taunt from months before: private security at the mine.  He didn’t know how to do  _ anything _ but be a cop.

Would another department take him?  He didn’t want to leave Jericho, but maybe New Bern or Rogue River would take an ex-sheriff as a rookie.

Hell, he’d go to Denver or Lawrence or somewhere bigger if that’s what it took.  He’d hate every damn second of it, but if it’s what needed doing…

 

“Bill lost,” Margaret said.  “Connor’s already called and offered Jimmy his job back.”

Sarah felt bad for Bill, but happy for Jimmy’s sake.  “That’s great,” she said. “You’ll be happy to have him back on the morning shift again.”

“He’ll be happy to be back.  Are  _ you  _ okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sarah asked, even though she  _ was _ conflicted.

“I mean, you may be divorced, but Bill is Bill.  He’s still the father of your children.” Margaret paused.  “And I think being away, you’ve realized you still love him some.  Despite it all.”

Sarah took the phone away from her ear for a moment, contemplating just hanging up instead of facing that statement.  She couldn’t be that rude, though. “I don’t know,” she lied.

“Sarah,” Margaret said chastisingly.  “You can admit it. You still did the right thing.  Both can be true.”

Sarah’s chest clenched and she cast a glance down the apartment hall to the boys’ bedroom.  “I guess,” she said. “I guess I do still care. Not that I’m not happy that Jimmy’s getting his job back.”

“I know you are,” Margaret assured her.  “Jimmy’s conflicted, too. We all miss Bill as he used to be.  He was a good friend and a good person then.”

“A good dad and husband, too,” Sarah added quietly.

“He was.”

“Do you know how he is?  He sounds so defeated and depressed when he calls to talk to the boys.”

Sarah could hear Margaret’s shrug.  “You’d have to ask Jimmy. He’s kept in contact with the other deputies.  If they’ve talked about Bill, he hasn’t told me.”

She sighed.  “Okay. Thanks for letting me know about the election.  I may need to let Bill skip child support the next couple of months until he gets back on his feet.”

“ _ If _ he gets back on his feet,” Margaret said.  “I don’t know what he’s going to do.”

“Me, either.”  Not for the first time, Sarah sent up a silent prayer for Bill’s sake.   _ Help him find his way.  Help him land on his feet.  The boys need him. I need – _

She cut herself off before she could finish that thought.  She didn’t need him anymore. And even if she did, she couldn’t have him.  He’d made that eminently clear.

Ah, she was getting emotional.  She needed a distraction. “Tell me about Woody and Sally.  What are they up to now? Did Woody ever ask that girl out?”

“Oh yes.  First girlfriend now and you’d think she’s all that exists in his world.”

Sarah listened to Margaret, who probably knew she needed to hear about someone other than Bill.  Thankfully, the Taylor teenagers were a fount of stories.

It was nearly ten Sarah’s time when she and Margaret finally hung up.  Sarah clutched her phone to her chest, repeating her prayer from earlier, and gave serious thought to calling Bill to check on him.

In the end, she sent a text.   _ I heard.  I’m sorry. _

She got no response, but she hadn’t expected one tonight.  Bill was probably drowning his sorrows in alcohol – that seemed to be his preferred coping method since they split up.

What did she tell the boys?   _ Did _ she tell them?  Should she wait until Bill had a new job?

Sarah wished there were easy answers, but there hadn’t been any since Libby died.

 

Connor was gracious.  Bill tried his best to be, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

Looking back over the last few months, he realized Connor  _ was _ the better candidate.  He was kinder, too: he never charged Bill with a DUI for that wreck, so Bill could still get a law enforcement job.

Not in Jericho, not anymore.  But somewhere.

Bill sent out applications to all the surrounding counties and cities, but they were too close.  No one wanted to hire a former sheriff from the next county over and Bill suspected some of them knew about the wreck, even if they didn’t mention it.

He’d have to look farther away.  Not that he wanted to leave Jericho, but more and more it seemed he had no choice.

He spent his days working with Connor, but there wasn’t much for him to do.  Mostly he just stood back and watched Connor work and handle the job better than he had the last eight months.  Bill thought he might have been better his first three years, but not anymore.

After work, Bill send out more applications – this time to bigger cities and places that wouldn’t know Jericho gossip.  He spent more time playing with Sadie than he had in years; he’d realized she was getting older and he didn’t have that much time left with her.

And he waited eagerly for Friday afternoons, when he could call Nathan and Wes.  His son’s voices were the only thing that got him through each week. And, if he were being honest, hearing Sarah’s voice was nice, too.

Fuck, he’d messed up.

There had to be a way out of this, didn’t there?

 

“Sarah?”

She stopped and actually  _ looked _ at the customer in front of her.  “Clay? Clay Prescott?” It was him!  He’d been an “almost” boyfriend before she moved to Jericho.  They’d been on a couple of dates but then she messed up and showed him her crazy – and had never heard from him since.

“Haven’t seen you in years,” he said, grinning.  He hadn’t changed much, except to put on a little weight.  Still tall and blond and blue-eyed and handsome in an unconventional sort of way.

“Um, yeah,” she said, glancing down at his transaction slip.  “I moved away for a while. Back now, though.”

He noticed the line forming behind him.  “I know you can’t talk now, but let’s grab a coffee.”

Sarah supposed she should have expected the way he said it as a statement, not a question.  He’d always been slightly arrogant in a very sure-of-himself way. It wasn’t all a bad thing, just something she’d forgotten.  “Um. Sure,” she said.

Clay dug in his pocket and pulled out a business card.  “Here, my cell’s on this. Call me when you’re free sometime.”

“Sure thing.”  Sarah stuck his card under her keyboard and quickly processed his deposit.  “Here you go. Talk to you later.”

He flashed her a grin and waved goodbye.

Sarah took a moment to blink before calling up the next customer.  Had she just said yes to a date? 

Yeah, she had.

It’d be over quickly, she was sure.  Once he found out she had kids and was divorced, that’d be it.  But still.

She wasn’t ready to date, was she?

Maybe she was.  The universe had brought her Bill.  Maybe Clay was back in her life the same way.

 

Coffee happened.  Well, coffee for Clay and apple cider for Sarah, who still abhorred the taste of actual coffee.  The boys were with her parents for the night, so she was free for anything. Not that she was sure what “anything” entailed.

She’d forgotten what a geek Clay was.  Bill liked some geeky things – Marvel movies, Star Wars – but not to the extent that Clay did.  She hadn’t had anyone to talk Doctor Who or Lord of the Rings with since she left Chattanooga. It was fun and she found herself genuinely laughing.

So when Clay invited her back to his apartment to watch that Doctor Who TV movie on William Hartnell, Sarah said yes.  She hadn’t gotten around to seeing it, what with being a mom and all.

And that was something else.  Clay didn’t seem fazed when she told him about Nathan and Wes.  She kept Libby to herself, for reasons she didn’t quite know. He just asked how things were with her ex, if they were still fighting.  She respected that; getting involved with someone else’s divorce was just a bad idea. Thankfully, she could tell him that conversations with Bill had been calm for a while now and that he was far enough away he couldn’t just drop in.

Clay lived in an apartment about ten miles from hers, a nicer complex than she could afford.  She parked next to him and followed him to the third floor.

His apartment was a little on the cluttered side, but it was obvious he was making enough money to splurge on the nice things:  new TV, game systems, a whole host of Blu-Ray movies, solid wood furniture… If he wanted to impress Sarah with his money, he made a good effort.

The only problem was that she knew this was how Bill lived before they got married.  He’d been able to afford a lot more when he hadn’t had to support her and their children.  Sarah knew Clay’s money was only so good.

The movie started out innocent, Sarah and Clay both curled up on the couch.  At some point, she found herself leaning against him, head on his shoulder, without quite knowing when it happened.  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tight.

Something inside her told her that if she were to look at Clay right now, they’d kiss.  But did she want to? This was their first time together after years apart. She didn’t know if she wanted more than friendship right now.

“What’s wrong?  You’re tense,” he asked quietly, rubbing her arm.

“Just thinking.  Bad habit,” Sarah said, trying to joke.

“Stop it, then.”  Clay’s other hand came up and turned her face towards him.

It wasn’t the best kiss she’d ever had, but it wasn’t the worst.  Mostly she just noticed he wasn’t Bill. Didn’t taste like Bill. Didn’t move like Bill.

Sarah chastised herself mentally.  She needed to be here with Clay, not back in Kansas with her ex.  Very solidly ex. Bill had made that clear.

So she kissed Clay for a while, but pulled away before it became anything else.  Not on a first date. She and Bill had moved slowly and she liked that speed.

Suddenly she felt completely awkward.  “I, uh. I’d better go,” she said, standing up.

He stood and held out a hand to her.  She took it, wondering what he intended.  She wasn’t going to follow him to the bedroom, if it came to that.

Clay didn’t try to lead her there.  He just held her hand with some gentle pressure.  “Let’s do this again,” he said. “I’ve missed you.  I messed up letting you go.”

Sarah blushed.  “Well, you know, crazy,” she said lightly.  “And now crazy with kids and an ex.”

“You aren’t crazy,” he said.  “I overreacted when you had that panic attack.  I didn’t know what to do.”

“Not many people do,” she said, smiling sadly for a moment before forcing a happier smile.  “But yes, we’ll do this again. You have my number now.”

Walking back to her car with another kiss on her lips, Sarah checked her phone.

_ Shit _ .  Ten missed calls from Bill.  It was Friday, his usual day to talk to the boys.

Maybe he figured it out and called her mother.  She felt compelled to check though. She started driving home and dialed his number.

“Are you okay?” Bill said instead of hello.  That anxiety coming to the fore, Sarah thought.

“I’m fine.  I was– I was out with a friend.  I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you the boys are at my parents’ overnight.  Did you catch them there?”

“I did.  But I worried when you didn’t answer.”

Sarah sighed and merged onto the highway.  “I’m a big girl, Bill, and no longer your responsibility.  I have a new life now.”

“You’re taking care of my sons.  What happens to you is still my concern.”

Even though he couldn’t see, she rolled her eyes.  “Hoping I die so you have a chance at getting them back?”

From the silence, Sarah knew she’d hurt Bill with that question.

“Look, I didn’t mean it that way.  I know you mean well. But really, you don’t have to worry about me.  You need to worry about you. Have you found a job yet?”

“I’m working at Matt Carlson’s granary for now, so you’ll get your check.  But I’m still trying for something somewhere else.”

Sarah’s eyebrows shot up.  “You seriously want to move away from Jericho?  From your mom? From your grandparents’ house?”

“I don’t  _ want _ to,” Bill said in a huff.  “But it might be the best option.  Maybe… maybe I can move somewhere closer to you.  So I can see them easier if you decide to let me.”

“Get your shit together, Bill, and I’ll work with you wherever you are, as long as we’re talking the contiguous United States.”

He was quiet for another moment.  “Was this friend a date?”

Of course he’d heard the hesitation in her voice.  He knew her well enough to read between the lines. “Yes,” she said simply.  “Old friend I dated a little before I moved to Jericho. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“It’s only been four months,” Bill said.

“It only took five months after Libby for you to divorce me,” Sarah shot back.  “Four’s enough.”

“Does he know about the boys?  About Libby?”

“Again, none of your business, Bill.”

A sigh.  “You’re right,” he relented.  “Just be safe and watch out for the boys.  I don’t want them getting hurt more.”

“I’m doing my best,” Sarah promised.

More silence.  She was about to hang up when Bill asked one more question.

“What needs to happen for you to consider my shit together?”  Bill sounded so soft when he asked it, as if he wasn’t sure he really wanted to.

Sarah thought for a second.  “You seem to have lost a lot of your anger, which is good, but that needs to stay gone.  You need a stable job. If you decide to stay at the granary, that’s fine, but I don’t think you’re happy there.  I need to hear from Stanley that you’re no longer drinking yourself to sleep or otherwise acting self-destructive.  And trying to reconcile with the Taylors would go a long way, too.”

“Right.”  Sarah felt like Bill was making notes.  “I can do those things.”

“Please do,” she said.  “For the boys’ sake, if not for your own.  I’m almost home, Bill, so I’m going to hang up now.  I’m glad you caught the boys to talk to them.”

Bill said goodbye and Sarah hung up.  She always had to – Bill  _ never _ hung up first anymore.  It was like he was hoping there’d be something more to say.

There wasn’t.  Bill had seen to that when he kicked her out of the house instead of pursuing counseling.  When he’d drunkenly kidnapped the boys and gotten them in a car wreck. When he wouldn’t compromise on custody.  He’d pushed for all that and now he’d gotten what he asked for.

It wasn’t Sarah’s fault if he didn’t like it.

She let herself into the apartment and collapsed on the hand-me-down couch.

What a night.  A romantic maybe and a jealous ex.  And she was confused about both.

 

Bill got a few calls back, mostly from departments wanting to know why a former sheriff was applying for an entry-level position.

Callaway County in Missouri was one of those, but they had more questions.  “What makes you want to move out here?”

“Honestly,” Bill answered, “I want to be closer to my kids.  They live with my ex down south.”

“Down south where?”

He wasn’t sure that was a legitimate phone interview question, but he answered anyway.

“We’re not that close to east Tennessee.  You sure you don’t want to try somewhere even closer?  Maybe actually  _ in _ Tennessee?”

That caused him to stutter.  He hadn’t considered leaving the Midwest.  Sarah would kill him if he moved there, though.  Wouldn’t she?

“I’m also trying to stay decently close to my mother in western Kansas,” Bill added.

“Okay.  So you  _ were _ sheriff?  What happened there?”

“Lost the election to one of my deputies.  He had the better campaign, I’ll admit. And I’m happy to go back to road patrol with a good partner.  I’m not looking for that again.”

He chatted with the Callaway County sheriff for a bit more, making plans for an in-person interview next week, before hanging up.

The sheriff’s words stuck with him.  Why  _ not _ move to Tennessee?  Maybe not to Hamilton County and Chattanooga, not without Sarah’s explicit permission, but somewhere close by.

Bill had more applications to turn in.

Getting a job wasn’t his only goal.  He wanted to knock off everything from Sarah’s list.  He had a feeling the job was going to be the easiest part.

Stopping drinking was hard.  He needed  _ something _ to help him sleep these days, to help him forget how alone he was.  Alcohol did that legally. He tried, though. Stanley came over and cleared out all his liquor, replacing the stash with some melatonin and OTC sleep aids.

The first couple weeks were rough.  Bill barely slept – his brain kept him up, throwing all his insecurities and failures at him – and he didn’t function well on less than six hours.  He knew the problem was his anxiety and vowed to talk to his psychiatrist about upping his medication, but he still had to make it to the appointment date. 

He stuck to it, though.  His sons were more important than a decent night’s sleep.

Jimmy was harder, though.  If he couldn’t get Jimmy to forgive him, Margaret was a no-go.

Bill had some groveling to do.

A phone call out of the blue seemed daunting, if Jimmy would even answer.  Bill went a safer route – he sent an email.

_ I’m sorry,  _ it read _.  I’m sorry for the way I treated you at work, for putting you on leave, for being upset when you were just trying to help my family. _

_ I don’t think you’ll ever forgive me, but I wanted you to know I realize I was wrong and I regret everything. _

Bill looked at the email for a minute.  There was more to say, but this covered the basics.  Maybe Jimmy would talk to him again.

He clicked send.

Going back to the web browser, he looked up Tennessee sheriff and police departments that were hiring.

 

That first date with Clay turned into a few more.  Kisses turned into a little more, too.

It was so nice to be held and wanted again.

A month and a half in she started considering introducing the kids to him, which was huge.  She’d told Nathan and Wes she was going on dates with an old friend and neither boy seemed to like the idea.

That was understandable.  Mama dating someone other than Daddy probably seemed very very wrong.  Sarah put up with Wes’ temper tantrums whenever she told them of an upcoming date for that reason.  Nathan kept quiet, but he acted out in other ways: Sarah got a call from his first grade that he was defying his teachers and biting other children.  She was a little baffled. They hadn’t had that latter problem in preschool and surely he’d outgrown that age?

Apparently not.

It was bad enough that she had to cut one date short to pick the boys up from her parents, where they were having bedtime meltdowns.  She brought them back to the apartment and put them in their own beds. Once they were home, with her, they calmed down.

Sarah sat on the edge of Wes’ bed, rubbing his back while he lay on his side, sniffling.  “What was wrong, guys?” she asked. “Why didn’t you want to sleep at Nana and Granddaddy’s?”

“Missed you,” said Wes.

“Do you  _ have _ to go out with Mr. Prescott?” Nathan asked.

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment.  “Mama can go out with people. It’s okay.  I’m safe and I’ll always come home to you.”

“But…”

“Would it help you if you met him?  If you knew who Mama was going out with?”

“Y’s,” mumbled Wes.

Nathan nodded too, pulling his stuffed bunny closer.

“Okay, then.  I’ll invite him over for dinner one night.  But you two need to straighten up your act. You can behave better than this.  Santa won’t come if you misbehave.”

They took the Santa threat seriously; Christmas was only a few weeks away.  “Yes, Mama,” said Nathan.

Sarah kissed both boys and flicked on the night light before leaving.  She settled in on the couch and thought for a minute before making the call.

“Sorry about that,” she said when Clay picked up the phone.  “Hazards of parenting.”

“I imagine,” he chuckled.  “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.  They just don’t like the idea of me dating someone they don’t know.  Do you think you’d be up to meeting them? Dinner at my place, maybe Friday or Saturday?”

Clay hesitated.  “Sure,” he said after a moment.  “If you think it’ll go well.”

She rubbed a temple.  “I have  _ no _ idea how it’ll go, but I think it’s the logical next step.  You can’t know who I am now unless you know them.”

“Well, you’ve talked about them enough.”

“That doesn’t count and you know it,” she chided teasingly.  “Do you want to come over tomorrow or is that too soon?”

“No, tomorrow works.  Want me to bring anything?” 

Sarah thought.  She’d planned on making pot roast with mashed potatoes and thought she had enough for four people.  “I’ve got it,” she said. “Shouldn’t even need to run to the store.”

Famous last words.

The next morning, she was putting the roast in the oven to cook when Nathan found out she didn’t have any green peas to smush in his mashed potatoes.  He stomped around the apartment, fussing loudly. Wes even looked up from Sarah’s computer, where he was watching Lion King for the umpteenth millionth time.

Sarah grabbed Nathan.  She didn’t need their downstairs neighbors complaining about noise.  He squirmed in her arms and yelled. Holding him under one arm, she plopped him down on his bed.

“What was that about, Nathaniel Warren?”

Nathan’s eyes widened at the use of his full name, but it didn’t break his sulk.  “I want peas,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Uh-huh,” Sarah said.  “You could have peas if you ask politely and you know that.  Something else is bothering you. Do you know what it is or do you need time to think about it?”  She suspected it was the whole idea of Clay, but she’d been surprised by her children before.

“Need time,” Nathan said.

“Okay then.  You stay in here, where it’s nice and quiet and comfy and think about it.  When you’ve got it, you can tell me and we can try to fix it. We can also go to the store and get peas if you ask nicely.”

Sarah waited Nathan out.  He came out of the bedroom, still moping, but not stomping around like before.

“What did you discover, Nathan?” she asked.

He looked up at her defiantly.  “I don’t like Mr. Prescott.”

Just as she’d thought.  “You haven’t even met him yet,” she said calmly.  “I need you to give him a chance, both of you.” She shot Wes a look, too.

Nathan’s lip quivered.  “I don’t want a new Daddy.  I miss  _ my _ Daddy.  Even if he’s mad.”

Ah.  They’d gotten used to talking to Bill over the phone again and Nathan, at least, looked forward to the phone calls every week.  Sarah got down on Nathan’s level. “Mr. Prescott is not trying to be your new Daddy. He and Mama are just friends.” Friends with limited benefits, for sure, but this wasn’t anything official yet.

Meeting her kids might  _ make _ it official if they got along, though.

“Remember I told you he like Star Wars too?  And Captain America? You can talk to him about that.”

“I can talk to Daddy about that,” Nathan mumbled.

“Yeah, you can.”  Sarah pulled him close for a hug he didn’t return.  “But this is another person you can talk to. He’s been a good friend to your Mama and I want him to be your friend, too”

“Peas?” piped up Wes and Sarah noticed the credits had started playing on his movie.

“You’ve got to get dressed, but we can go get peas,” she said.  She didn’t relish the idea of a grocery store visit with the boys, but there wasn’t anyone close enough to drop them off with.  “And only peas!” she called after them when they ran to their bedroom. 

That was probably a futile gesture.

 

The granary’s grist mill was like the sheriff’s department in that it ran seven days a week, but at least it shut down in the evenings.  Bill didn’t want to be shoved to an overnight shift if he didn’t have to.

Just like every other day, he trudged home, walked Sadie, and hopped in the shower to wash all the stray cornmeal off.  Once more, he checked his cell phone just in case Sarah or the boys had tried to call.

They never had, but that didn’t stop him hoping.

Next was his email to see if Jimmy ever responded.  It’d been a few days and Bill was beginning to think he never would.

Except he had.  One email from Jimmy’s work address.

_ Buddy, you have a lot of apologizing to do.  If you’re up to it, I’ll meet you at Bailey’s at five.  Your treat. _

That was fair.  Bill glanced at the clock.  Four-thirty. He rubbed his hand in his hair, trying to help it dry a little quicker.  He didn’t have time to fix it like normal, so it flopped in his face. He’d let it do that a lot lately, especially as it got shaggier.  He really needed a haircut, but hadn’t made time for one. His mom had even commented on it last week when the two of them got together for Thanksgiving.  It wasn’t much of a celebration with just two people, but they tried.

Mary Bailey gave him a look when he walked in.  He’d been in here regularly, but stopped suddenly when he tried to quit drinking so much.

A few beers with Jimmy wouldn’t hurt, though.  Bill was sure of it.

Jimmy was waiting for him at a booth by the window, beers already ordered.  Bill nodded at Mary and slid in the booth opposite Jimmy.

There was silence until Bill said, “Hi Jimmy.  Long time, no see.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows raised.  “I think that’s your own fault.”

Bill looked down at the table.  “You’re right. I really fucked everything up.  With Sarah and the kids. With you and Margaret.  I wish I could say I haven’t been myself, but I’ve been like that for almost a year now.  Ten months of this. Kinda makes it my new normal.”

“Yeah, you really screwed things over,” Jimmy agreed. 

He didn’t add anything more and Bill knew it was up to him to carry this conversation.

“Jesus, Jimmy.  I wish you knew just how sorry I really am.  I miss you as a friend, but I’m ashamed when I think about the things I said and did to you.  You didn’t deserve that.”

Jimmy swigged his beer.  “Why are you apologizing now?”

He hadn’t accepted the apology, Bill noted.  “I’m probably going to have to move somewhere else to get a job that isn’t at a mill or a mine.  I’m trying to ‘get my shit together’ before I have to leave.”

“That’s Sarah talking, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Bill admitted.  “I wanted you to know that I was sorry anyway.  She just spurred me into doing it now.”

Jimmy leaned back against the tall booth.  “Trying to get it together enough she’ll let you see the boys?”

Bill knew the look he gave Jimmy was haunted.  “I miss them, Jimmy. I never knew I could be this alone.  Even before Sarah, I wasn’t this lonely.”

“You ran them off, Bill.  You did the pushing away, not Sarah.  Not me.”

He ran a finger through the condensation on his glass.  “I know,” he sighed. “And I’d get it if you never forgave me.  But if there’s any way I can reconcile this – us – let me know. I’d like to.”

Jimmy laughed, but it wasn’t his usual jovial guffaw.  “You want a list? ‘If you do this, this, and that, Jimmy will forgive you.’”

Bill flushed.  He’d actually kinda hoped for something like that.  Sarah had given him a list, so it wasn’t  _ too _ out of the question, was it?

“It’s not that easy,” Jimmy said.  “You changed and you caused a lot of hurt.  Regret is one thing, but how do I know you’ve changed again for the better?  For all I know, you wouldn’t have reached out to me if Sarah hadn’t told you to.”

Gulping down about half his pint, Bill looked at Jimmy again.  “Like I said, I’m doing it now because of Sarah. But I would have done this eventually, before I left town.  We’ve been friends since middle school, Jimmy. More than twenty-five years now. I hate thinking I’ll leave that behind.” 

Jimmy leaned forward, staring at Bill.  “You yelled and screamed at me, which I can handle, but then you tried to fire me for getting your ex-wife and kids out of the bad situation you put them in – which I hope you see now – and  _ then _ .   _ Then, _ you forced your way into my house while I was gone and kidnapped your sons, only to hurt them with a damn DUI accident.  You pushed my wife and your ex-wife around while you did that. That’s damn hard to forgive.”

Bill felt a pang of guilt with each thing Jimmy listed off.  “I was so wrong,” he whispered. “None of you deserved any of that.  I’m such an asshole.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jimmy said, but he sighed.  “Stop moping about this. I swear you’re worse than my teenagers.”

Bill looked up.  Jimmy’s expression hadn’t changed, dashing Bill’s brief hopes.       

“I’m going to start keeping up with Stanley regularly,” he said.  “I know you’re still hanging out with him. If he can tell me you’re the old Bill again – or at least a decent person again – then we’ll talk forgiveness.  But I want to see you walk the walk, not just say the words.”

“I can do that.”

Jimmy downed the rest of his beer and stood, grabbing his jacket.  “Just so you know, the new kid got a job offer for the Hays Police Department, so we’re going to have another opening soon.  Fix yourself and I bet Connor will consider you, if you want to be my partner again. You don’t need training, for one, and you were a damn good deputy before all this happened.  Damn good sheriff, too, but you’ve got to get your head out of your ass to make this work.”

Bill sat there stunned as Jimmy left.  He’d never considered that Connor might allow him to come back as a deputy. 

Surely Jimmy was wrong there.

He glanced at his watch.  Six-fifteen, Friday night.  He had to call before seven if he wanted Sarah to let him talk to the boys.

Bill paid for their beers and headed for his truck, fixed up now thanks to insurance.  It’d never be the same, however, and he was considering selling it and getting something completely different.  Something that didn’t have bad memories attached to it.

He glanced at the bench seat next to him, remembering the boys laid out there after the wreck.

Shuddering, Bill dug out his phone.

 

Clay was gracious about it, but dinner was a fiasco.  Nathan was sullen the whole time, refusing to talk to Clay about anything.  Wes was shy and also refused to talk, spending most of his time staring wide-eyed at Clay from his booster seat or behind Sarah’s legs.  Clay made an effort, but it was obvious neither boy was going to welcome him easily.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah apologized while he helped her clean up after dinner.  She packaged up some leftovers for him and set them in the fridge until he was ready to leave.

Or was he ready now?

“It’s okay,” Clay said.  “I fully admit I have no clue what I’m doing with smaller children.  Pre-teens and teens, I’m good.”

Sarah smiled.  She’d met Clay while working for the Boy Scouts and those were the ages of the Scouts they worked with.  “I know what you mean. It’s been a learning curve for me.”

“Your ex.  Was he good with them?”

She paused.  Clay hadn’t asked many questions about Bill.  “Yes and no. He had no clue what to do with Nathan when he was a baby, but he caught on pretty quick by the time he was walking and we were expecting Wes.”

“I’m guessing he’s who Nathan looks like?”

Sarah smiled sadly.  “He’s a clone.”

Her phone buzzed on the computer desk, where she’d left it charging.  Shit. That was probably Bill, calling for the boys. Nathan and Wes perked up from where they’d been playing Trouble on the coffee table.

She checked the caller ID.  She’d been right.

With a quick apology to Clay, she answered.  “Bill. This isn’t the best time. I’ve got someone over.”

“Are the boys at your parents?”

“No,” Sarah answered.  “They’re here.”

“Your date?”

“None of your business, Bill.”

“It is when Nathan and Wes are involved!”

“No, not anymore,” Sarah said firmly.  “The custody order determined that.”

Bill made a choking sound and she knew that’d cut him to the bone.

“Okay, fine.  Let me get you the kids.  But remember, none of your business what I do.”  She held out the phone and Nathan ran over eagerly.

“Hi, Daddy!”

Sarah shrugged at Clay.  “Sorry. Standard Friday night phone call.”

“Sounded like he’s a bit jealous,” Clay mused.

“Well, as I told him, it’s not his business what I do anymore.”  Sarah let Clay wrap her in a hug. Nathan and Wes stared unhappily.  She let go, not wanting to provoke them. “Want to join Nathan and Wes’ game?

“Sure,” he said, and settled in the floor next to Wes, leaving the couch for Sarah.  Wes edged a little closer to Sarah and she rubbed his back.

“It’s okay, kiddo.  Clay isn’t a scary guy,” she said soothingly.  She glanced over to see Nathan in the kitchen, still talking to Bill.  If she listened closely, she could tell what he was saying.

“Mm-hmm.  Mr. Prescott.  No, I don’t. Mama says he’s nice.  He said call him Clay but he’s an adult.”

Sarah was suddenly glad Bill was no longer law enforcement.  Nathan had just given Bill enough information to do a background check on Clay.  Thankfully, he couldn’t meddle that way anymore.

They played Trouble with Wes until Nathan finished talking to Bill and then he handed the phone to his brother.  Wes wasn’t nearly as chatty, but he never was. Sarah wasn’t sure if he was still scared of Bill or if he was just awkward on the phone like she usually was.

Finally, Wes brought her the phone, already hung up.  It buzzed once more, a text message, while she held it.

_ Call me when your date leaves.  No matter the time. _

Sarah rolled her eyes and stuck the phone in her back pocket.  “Okay, where were we, guys?”

One game later, it was bedtime.  Clay offered to help, but Sarah waved him off.  “You can wait or you’re welcome to head out if you’ve had enough.”

He chose to wait, sitting on the couch, paging through a book from the shelf when she came back out.

“I’m sorry that was so rough,” she said, settling on the couch next to him.

“About what I expected.  I’d be resentful too, if I were them.”

He was making an effort, thank goodness.  She snuggled in a little closer and he wrapped an arm around her.  “I’d say we should watch a movie, but as you see, no TV. The ex got the house and all the furniture and buying a TV hasn’t been a priority for me.  We could watch something on the computer, but we’d have to sit in the floor.”

“That works for me,” Clay said.  She guessed it worked for her, too, then.

Once the movie was playing, Sarah settled in on the ground in front of the computer.  Clay scooted up behind her, so she was effectively in his lap. She leaned back as he wrapped his arms around her.

Closing her eyes, Sarah tried to settle her stomach.  On the one hand, it was  _ so nice _ to be held like this again.  She needed some physical comfort after the last horrible ten months and Clay was more than willing to give it to her.  He was a good guy with a good job. A personality to get used to, but she’d learned to enjoy his company years ago. He was patient with her kids tonight.

And yet.

He wasn’t Bill.  Anyone but Bill touching her like this, hands dancing up to her breasts, just seemed  _ wrong _ .  And most importantly, Nathan and Wes didn’t have a good first impression of him.

Damn it, why did it always come back to Bill?  She replayed some of the cruel things he’d said to her in her head, banishing him that way.  She needed to be in the now with Clay.

The now was getting interesting.  One of his hands had slipped under her shirt and was massaging through her bra.

The other started dipping down in her pants.

Clay was enjoying it, she could feel against her lower back.

A pang of guilt flashed through her until she remembered she was divorced and free now.  Free to do things like this with men who weren’t her ex. Still, there was one problem.

“My kids,” she said softly.  “They’re just in the other room and the walls are thin.”

“So be quiet,” Clay replied, a little cocksure.

With a little bit of difficulty, Sarah turned around so that her legs were wrapped around Clay’s waist.  “Do  _ not _ wake them.  They’ve been traumatized enough this year,” she said between kisses.

“Oh?”  Clay quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Later,” Sarah said.  She didn’t want to talk about Libby or Bill right now, not if she was going through with this.

He pulled her shirt off.  She returned the favor and pushed him back onto the carpet before working at his pants.  He wiggled out of them while she took off hers. 

Sarah paused before pulling off her underwear.  This was her last chance to back out with grace.  Did she want this? It would be the first time she’d had sex since Libby: the length of time didn’t bother her as much as the significance.  Clay had no idea.

She’d wanted this from Bill, but he wouldn’t touch her, damn him.

A deep breath and Sarah slipped her bra off.  Bill had his chance. Now she was taking hers.

 

At some point, they ended up in her bedroom.  She lay next to Clay, breathing heavily. Thankfully, no children had awakened in the last twenty minutes or so.

She couldn’t help but compare Clay to Bill.  The first time she slept with Bill was pretty comparable, but over the last twelve years, they’d learned each other’s bodies – and for all he tried, Clay couldn’t compare to that.

Give him time, she told herself.  She and Bill took time getting there too.

Then again, there were some areas Bill excelled in that time couldn’t fix.  Physical ones.

“What did you mean, your sons have been traumatized?”

Sarah rolled her head to the side.  “Way to kill the mood, Clay.”

He rolled on his side.  “No, really. You’ve been holding stuff back.  What is it?”

She reached down to grab a throw blanket and wrap it around her.  “It’s… Well, it’s mostly divorce stuff. Fights and all that.”

“Mostly?”

Did she want to tell him?

Well, if they were going to try this, she’d better. 

Sarah rolled over to her nightstand and grabbed one of the pictures off it.  Holding it to show Clay, she said, “This is Libby. She died when I was almost seven months pregnant with her.  And losing her is what broke my ex and I up.” She was very proud of herself for not crying at all while she spoke.

Clay reached out and placed a hand on her knee.  “I’m so sorry.”

Sarah gave a half shrug.  “It was one of the most horrible things to ever happen to me.  My ex, too. He got mad at the world and I couldn’t get past my grief.  We couldn’t work together, so he called it quits and asked for a divorce.  I took the kids, but my ex didn’t want to give them up. There were fights.  Some in front of them, which I regret. But…”

“But?”

“But the worst was when he showed up where I was staying and took them from me by force.  He was drunk and angry and wrecked the car with them in it. Nathan needed surgery afterwards.  He was only five at the time.”

Clay’s eyes were wide.  “Sounds like you were right to get out of there.”

“I’m pretty sure I am.  He straightened up a little after that, but still…”

He squeezed her knee.  “You’re right. Sounds like those kids have been through a lot.  It’s good they had you.”

“For as much good as I was, still grieving.”

“Are you still?”

Sarah bit her lip.  “I think I’ve accepted it now.  I’ve had time here to process it finally.  Maybe the distance helped, too.”

Clay leaned forward and kissed her again.  “Always knew you were strong.”

Blushing, she pulled back and got off the bed.  “I, uh. I want to do this again, but I’ve got to kick you out now if I’m going to get any sleep.”

He didn’t argue, just snuck back to the den where their clothes were, dressed, and slipped out quietly.

Sarah watched him leave then stood in the door of the boys’ room, checking that they were still sound asleep.  Looking at Nathan reminded her she was supposed to call Bill if she wanted to indulge his paranoia about the boys.

It was ten here, so nine back in Jericho.  He’d still be awake.

 

Bill was in bed when his cell rang.  “You’re later than I thought you’d be,” he said.

“Hello to you, too,” Sarah said.  There was something familiar in her voice, a sort of relaxation he only heard when…

“You slept with him.”

Dead silence on the other end of the line.  “He’s not spending the night, if you worried about that,” she said after a minute.

“But you slept with him.  With the boys there.”

“You and I had sex while the boys were asleep.”

“That’s different!”

She laughed.  “I fail to see how.”

“We were married!  We’re their parents!”

“Like we didn’t sleep together before we were married.”

“We waited to do that because  _ you _ wanted to!  And now what, you’re just jumping in bed with the first guy who asks you out?”

Her voice turned ice cold.  “That was uncalled for, Bill, and you know it.  I’m a fucking single adult and I can do what or  _ who _ I want.”

More silence.  Bill didn’t have a good response to that.  He was still appalled that Sarah was sleeping with a strange man while his sons were in the next room.

“What did you want me to call you about?” she asked.

Bill blinked back his offense.  “I wanted to talk to you about two job opportunities I have because it’ll affect you and the boys whatever I do.”

“Assuming we rework custody.”

“Assuming that.”  Bill sighed. “Look, I got an interview to be a deputy in Rhea County down there.”  Rhea was just northeast of Chattanooga, and Bill could be less than thirty minutes from the boys.

“You’ve been applying down here?!  You’re actually considering leaving Jericho and Kansas?”

Bill wasn’t happy about it, but…  “It gets me closer to you guys. Makes it easier if we rework to shared custody.”

He could tell she wasn’t too excited about the prospect, but he knew her well enough to presume she also saw the potential benefit.

“And the other?”

“I talked to Jimmy tonight–”

“Jimmy’s talking to you again?”

“He hasn’t completely accepted my apologies, but he listened.  And he told me Connor would consider hiring me as a deputy again.”

He could hear the shock in her voice.  “They’d actually let you back? After all that?”

“They might.  It’s a big maybe.”

“So you’re asking me if I want you down here with us or to hold out for your old job?”  Sarah sighed. “Have you talked to Connor yet?”

“I called Connor tonight and he said he’d consider it.  If I got my act straightened up and stayed that way until the position opens up.”

“And you don’t want to leave Jericho, do you?”

“Not particularly, though I’ll do it in a heartbeat for Nathan and Wes, if you want me down there.”  Really, he wanted a way to bring them – all three of them – back to Jericho with him, but he didn’t know if that would ever be possible.

“ _ Can _ you keep your act straight?”

“Have you talked to Stanley?  I’ve  _ been _ straight.  I’m just working on apologies for everyone who deserves them.”

“You know Nathan and Wes deserve them.”

And Sarah, he knew.  She deserved an apology from him.  “I know. I’ve talked to them about it on the phone, but I really want to do it in person, too.”  He wanted to hug them and never let them go – but no matter how much he wanted them, he’d never forcibly take them again.  That had been so, so wrong of him.

More silence.  “I’m going to talk to Jimmy, see what he says.  But I’d say come interview down here, see if you’d like it any better than staying there.  Maybe we can work something out where you can see the boys while you’re here.”

That was what he’d been hoping to hear.  “Good. The interview is on Monday. I’m driving down Sunday and planning to head back Wednesday.  I figured if I couldn’t see the boys, I could still see the area, especially if I take the job.”

“Well, Rhea County is a nice place.  Dayton’s only a couple thousand bigger than Jericho, but with more hills.  Real hills, not what you Kansans call hills. You might like it.”

“I might,” Bill allowed.  What he’d really like was to see his family again.  “We’ll see.” 

Sarah sighed.  “Go with whatever job you want, Bill.  The best paying one or the one where you think you’ll be happiest.  I’ll work with you wherever, like I’ve said.”

That was the best he was going to get, Bill supposed.  “Talk to Stanley and Jimmy. See what you think about me seeing the kids.  Let me know and we’ll make plans.”

“I will,” Sarah promised.  “Good night, Bill.”

“Good night, Sarah.”   _ I still love you.  I just forgot that. _

 

He really apologized.  He really was straightening up.  Huh.

Sarah hung up after getting the report from Stanley the next day.  Staring at her phone a little more, she contemplated what to do.

Eventually, she dialed Bill’s number.

“Okay,” she told him.  “I’ve got a condition for you.”

“Whatever,” he said, a little too eagerly.

“Monday, after your interview, we have dinner.  Just you and I, so I can see how you’ve changed.  If that goes well, then I’ll keep the kids out of school Tuesday and you can spend the whole day with them.  Fair?”

She could hear the surprise in his voice.  “More than.”

“Okay, then.  I’ll see you Monday.”

Next, Sarah called Margaret.  “Am I messing up?” she asked. “Should I have said no?  Am I a pushover?”

“Jimmy said he really seemed sorry, so maybe not.”  Margaret said in a verbal shrug. “What was your impression?”

“He’s been contrite whenever he calls and the boys look forward to talking to him now, so he’s no longer actively scaring them,” Sarah allowed.  “But that’s on the phone. What if he gets here and is the same Bill who picked fights with me all the time?”

“Then you don’t let him see the boys.  He knows the terms.”

Sarah rubbed one of her temples.  “This whole thing is just a headache.  I mean, I understand why Bill applied somewhere so close, but it’s not like it changes the custody agreement – and I’m not sure  _ he _ gets that.”

“You’d be hopeful, too, if he’d gotten the boys,” Margaret pointed out.  She was always good for playing Devil’s Advocate. “Are  _ you _ ready to see him?  Can you go Monday night without getting angry?”

“I’m not sure,” admitted Sarah.  “There’s still a lot of pent up emotions.  And it would almost be easier if he were still angry.  At least I’d have no compunctions about what to do. Being mad at him is easy.  But if he’s his old self or even just apologetic and pathetic enough… I may have problems.”

Margaret was silent, forcing Sarah to continue.

“You know I’ve still got some feelings for him, despite everything – and you are the  _ only _ person who knows that.  If he’s the Bill I fell in love with, it’s going to hurt knowing that all that is gone.  Knowing that I still can’t trust him. I may agree to let him see the boys without really thinking it through then.”

“But if he’s his old self with you – the person he was mad with – isn’t a sign he’ll be good with the boys?”

“What if he is?  He’s still got to leave the next morning.  What if this just messes the boys up more, to have him yanked away so soon?”

Margaret sighed.  “I think you have to take that chance.  If he really does move all the way down there, you might  _ want _ to amend the custody agreement.”

“Do you really think he’ll move?” Sarah wondered.  “I mean, Bill living outside of rural Kansas?”

“I think he’d move anywhere for those kids,” Margaret said softly.  “And once upon a time, he’d have followed you anywhere, too.”

Sarah laughed.  “That time’s past, isn’t it?”

“Unless he’s come to his senses.”

“Hardly likely.  And even if he did decide he’d made a mistake, what good would that do?  He can’t undo what he said and did!”

Margaret stayed quiet again.

“Margaret, I’m not getting back together with the man who divorced me.  Who accused me of being the reason Libby died! Anyway, I told you I’m sorta seeing someone already.”

Margaret laughed this time.  “Forgive me for kinda hoping you’ll get back together and move back here.  I really want our old Bill back. And I really want  _ you _ back.  You can come back without him, too.  That’d be acceptable.”

“You can’t tell me  _ you’ve _ forgiven him for bursting in your house!  For firing Jimmy!” Sarah scoffed.

“I’m willing to forgive him if he starts treating you and the boys right again.”

That made Sarah pause.  If even strong-willed Margaret Taylor was genuinely willing to forgive Bill, maybe he  _ had _ changed.

Dare she hope?

 

Sarah was right.  Rhea County had real hills and mountains and Dayton did seem his sort of town.  Bill vaguely remembered Sarah telling him about some big trial here in the early part of last century that her great-grandmother had attended.

He wished he could remember more of what Sarah told him about Tennessee.

Hell, he wished he could remember more of everything Sarah ever told him.  He wished he’d listened to her when she tried to talk to him.

Bill would be pissed at himself right now, but what would that accomplish?

He pulled into the sheriff’s department on 2 nd Avenue and took a moment to collect himself.  Here he was, forty years old, trying to start anew.  He was at the upper end of the age limit for most places to hire a deputy and he hadn’t had a real interview since he was twenty-one.  He really  _ needed _ to make a good impression.  He needed a better job than milling at the granary.

What would he tell them if they offered him the job today, though?  Yes, right away? Or see if he could talk to Sarah about it tonight and then sleep on it?

The specter of his old job loomed heavily in his mind, confusing him.  If it weren’t for that possibility, he’d simply say yes.

Taking a deep breath, Bill got out of the truck and headed inside.

It wasn’t a large, open room like in Jericho.  An older man stood at a desk behind bulletproof plastic looking out at a small lobby.

Was crime this bad here?  Maybe it was the proximity of a larger city.

He introduced himself and the man said he’d get Sheriff Neal, but he didn’t seem to be in a great hurry.  Bill waited until he was buzzed back into the main part of the building.

It was almost a maze, through doors and down halls and up stairs then back down, but he was finally deposited in the sheriff’s office.  Sheriff Neal, a tall man with a huge smile and equally huge mustache, shook his hand and invited him to sit.

There was a bit of the traditional chatter: how was his trip, was the hotel okay, had he seen much of the area yet, did he have Christmas plans?  Bill had expected such pleasantries, especially here in the south, so he answered as politely and as genuinely as he could.

Finally satisfied with Bill’s small talk, the sheriff dove right in with the tough questions.

“I  _ was _ sheriff,” Bill explained.  “Lost the election to one of my deputies.  No departmental scandals, just an honest popularity contest.  Not looking to be a sheriff again; I’m not cut out for constant campaigns.”  He’d known that question was coming. No sheriff would want to hire someone who’d actively try to replace them.

“And you didn’t want to go back as a deputy there?”

Bill shrugged.  “I did, but I only recently found out he’d be willing to hire me back.”

“But you’re still looking far away?”

“My kids are in Chattanooga.  I’d like to be closer to them.”

“So why Rhea instead of Hamilton County?”

Bill and the sheriff went back and forth for nearly an hour.  He supposed that was a good sign, as was the big smile as they shook hands at the end of the interview.

“I’ll call you sometime in the next couple of days.  If you don’t hear from me, I’m probably buried in paperwork and forgot, so give me a call.”  Sheriff Neal handed him a business card.

Bill grinned.  “Paperwork is another thing I don’t miss.  Thought it was bad as a deputy, but as a sheriff…”

“Ain’t that the truth?”

The sheriff showed Bill the way out of the building, shook his hand one more time, and Bill left feeling pretty good about the interview.

If only he felt as at ease about Sarah’s interview later tonight.

He had some time before she got out of work, so he drove through the county’s main roads, trying to familiarize himself.  He was used to long, straight stretches, but roads here in Tennessee seemed to wind and bend every tenth of a mile or so. It would take him a bit to learn his way around.

Assuming he got the job.

Assuming he  _ wanted _ the job.

 

Sarah checked her phone as soon as she got in the car.  The kids were staying with her parents overnight, so she didn’t have to worry about picking them up.  She hadn’t told them about Bill coming to town, just in case everything fell through. They’d had enough disappointment in their lives, so she hoped for everyone’s sake it didn’t.

There was a suggestive text from Clay, wondering when they could next meet up.  Sarah blushed to read it.

A second text, this one from Bill.  He’d been in town for about a half hour and had found a Tractor Supply store to wander through while he waited on her.

She thought about setting up a date with Clay later tonight, since she was free, but held off on that.  There was no telling how long dinner would take. Instead, Sarah called Bill and gave him directions to a small restaurant called the Fresh Pot, somewhat between her bank and where Bill was.  It was a short call, Sarah saved all the pleasantries for when they met up.

He was waiting for her outside the restaurant, hunched up in the cold, when she walked up from the parking lot.

“What kind of place is this?” he asked, a little gruffly.

Sarah blinked.  She’d just been thinking it was good to see his face again, but maybe she shouldn’t.  “Hello to you, too.”

Bill softened immediately.  “Hi. I’m sorry. I’m really glad to see you.  I just didn’t know if you’d want me to say that.”

She was taken aback yet again.  That response was not what she’d expected and she didn’t quite know what to say.  If she said she was glad to see him too, it might send the wrong message. “You got a haircut,” she said after a moment.  “It’s shorter than you usually wear it.”

“You got one, too,” he said, nodding at her now shoulder-length hair.

“New hair, new me?” she said, a little questioningly.

Bill ran a hand through his own hair.  “Figured I needed to look professional for the interview.  I let it go after you guys left and it looked pretty bad.”

Sarah felt a little bad hearing that Bill hadn’t taken care of himself, but she reminded herself that it was neither her fault nor her business.  “So this is a little Ecuadorian-American place. You can try the Ecuadorian food, but they’ve got regular stuff on the menu if you aren’t feeling adventurous.”  He was never adventurous.

Bill nodded, looking at the specials board in the window.  “I wasn’t sure I was even reading real words on that thing,” he said.  “Let’s get in out of the cold.”

It wasn’t as windy as Kansas, but there was a damp December chill that settled in your bones.  Sarah let Bill hold the door for her and waved at the owner, who pointed her to a booth.

Bill stood for a second, making a motion like he was going to help with her coat.  Like he used to. She shot him a look and took off her own coat. He backed off and sat in the booth opposite her.

“How are the boys?” he asked immediately.

“They’re good now.  We all had a rough start but they seem to like their classes now.  They’ve made some friends and I’m in charge of cupcakes for Nathan’s class holiday party.”  She rolled her eyes. “Gotta get them all from the vegan, allergen free bakery, so  _ that’s _ gonna cost an arm and a leg.”

“You can’t make them at home anymore?” he asked.

“Maybe at a public school?  But he’s at the private elementary I went to and the parents there are much pickier about what their kids are allowed to eat.  I’m not even allowed to send him a peanut butter sandwich for lunch.”

“That sounds way out of Jericho’s league.”

Sarah grinned.  “A little. The private schools here are really good, though, so hopefully it’s worth it.”  They paused to order – salmon salad for her, chicken pasta for him. When they were done, she asked him about the interview.

“It went well, I think.  I like the sheriff. Let’s hope he liked me.”  Bill frowned. “How are you affording private school  _ and _ preschool?  Do I need to be sending you more money?”

The offer was unexpected.  Sarah was impressed. “We’ll see when they’re both at the school.  It’s $16,000 a year per kid, but Nathan got a tuition grant that paid for half of it this year.  Thankfully, I can pay the rest in monthly installments.”

She almost laughed at how Bill boggled.  “For elementary school? You can go to a state college for that much!”

“It’s what you do if you want your kids to have a good education here.”

“Jericho schools–”

Sarah knew how he’d finish that.  They’d argued about it when Nathan was preschool aged.   _ Jericho schools are just fine. _  “We’re not in Jericho anymore, Bill, and I don’t know that we’re ever moving back.  I have a job here now, the kids have two grandparents and a great-grandmother here, and they’re settling in.  That doesn’t mean I don’t want them to spend time with your mother every year. They love her and I know she adores them.”

“But not me.”

“That’s what we’re here to learn, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Bill reached across the table and placed his hands near her elbows, almost but not quite touching.  “Before you start drilling me, can I say something?”

Sarah nodded, curious.

“I’m sorry,” he said and she could tell it was heartfelt.  “I was a complete and total asshole to you, to the boys, to the Taylors, to anyone and everyone around me.  I was hurting because of Libby but that’s no excuse for the way I acted. You deserved better from me. You  _ expected _ better from me and you should have.  I made vows to you and I broke them. I hurt the boys, mentally and physically.  I don’t think you’ll forgive me, but I wanted to apologize anyway. Wanted you to know that I know how wrong I was.  I wish I could go back and fix things, but all I can do is ask that you accept the apology, with or without forgiveness.”

That… was a big apology.  She’d expected  _ an _ apology, but not one quite that well-spoken.  She sat there for a minute before asking the first question that came into her head.  “How long did you practice that?”

Bill hung his head.  “Since the election.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?  We’ve talked on the phone since.”

“Would you have listened?”

Sarah leaned back as their food was served.  “Bill, what do you expect me to do with an apology like that?  Tell you everything’s better? Offer to pack up and follow you home?  What?”

“You do what you want with it,” Bill said.  “I just had to say it.”

Closing her eyes, Sarah digested the apology.  It sure  _ sounded _ like the old Bill was back, or coming back.  She had to be sure, though.

“And if it’s for nothing?  If I’ve already decided you aren’t seeing the boys and I’m not interested in reworking custody, ever?”

She’d hoped that would needle Bill a little, but he didn’t take the bait.

“Then I don’t see them.  I’ll be devastated but I’ll know I tried.”

Sarah watched Bill as they ate.  Occasionally she sent a barb his way, just to watch his reaction.  She reminded him of the things he said to her, things he did to the boys.

Her efforts to provoke him were for naught.  Bill stayed even-keeled and apologetic, wincing at the memories of what he’d done.

Maybe he had changed.

Sarah shook her head.  “Okay, you can see the boys tomorrow.  But I want to come along, just so I can be sure we don’t have another kidnapping fiasco.”

“That’s fair,” Bill said.  “Tell me about this guy you’re dating.  What do the boys think?”

“We’re not quite dating,” Sarah clarified.

“Just sleeping together.”

She gave him a look.  “Call it the introductory period, if you want.  I’m thirty-seven now, a divorcée with two kids. I don’t have time to be as picky and take things as slow as we did when I was twenty-five.”  She stabbed at the salad. “Anyway, he’s not brand new in my life. He and I went on a couple dates before I moved to Jericho.”

“Why didn’t you stay and date him?  Why did you move?” He looked genuinely curious.

“I had a panic attack in front of him – not that I knew that’s what it was at the time – and it scared him off.”

Bill nodded.  She knew he’d feared his panic attacks would scare her off when they started dating.   _ She’d _ feared the same thing.  Being able to understand each other’s mental problems was one reason why they’d worked well together for as long as they had.

“And he’s completely cool with your bipolar and stuff?”

Pausing, Sarah thought.  “It hasn’t come up again.  I haven’t had a big downswing since we moved – been too focused on the boys to let go and let my brain do its thing, I guess.”

Worry crossed Bill’s face.  “What if he still isn’t willing to stick around?

“That’s my problem, Bill.”

“It could be the boys’ problem.  Do they like him?”

“They put up with him.  They don’t really like the idea of me seeing anyone other than you.”

“What did you tell them about tonight?”

“I didn’t,” Sarah admitted.  “I didn’t want to get their hopes up and then find out you hadn’t changed.”

The bill was dropped off and he grabbed it.

“Sarah…”

“Bill?”

He bit his lips, a sure sign he was debating something.  “I’m enjoying this. Talking to you again like normal. I don’t want dinner to end.”

“You want dessert?”  He never wanted dessert, unless it was carrot cake or ice cream.

“No, I… is there a place to go for coffee or something?  That’s what people do, right?”

Ah.  The old “I don’t want this evening to end.”

The thing was, she was enjoying it too.  He felt familiar and safe in a way he hadn’t since the night of Libby’s funeral, the last time he’d willingly touched her.

She sighed, realizing she was about to do something stupid, but she forged ahead anyway.  “Come to my place. I don’t have coffee, but you don’t drink it this late anyway. I’ve got hot chocolate.”

Bill nodded, wide-eyed.  He obviously hadn’t expected that invitation.

On the drive home, Bill following her, Sarah tried to talk herself into sending him away and calling Clay instead.

Clay.  That’s right.  They weren’t officially dating, but they weren’t  _ not _ dating either.  What would he think about her ex coming to her apartment?  Even if it was just to talk about Nathan and Wes some more and drink hot chocolate?

Why didn’t she care what Clay would think?

Sarah pretended like everything was okay and led Bill to the apartment.  She showed him the boys’ room so he could see they weren’t neglected and then directed him to the couch while she heated the water.

The floor creaked behind her and Sarah turned around to see Bill standing a few feet away.

“Damn it, Sarah,” he said quietly.  “I miss you.” He took a step closer.

She put down the hot mugs.  “Bill, this probably isn’t–”

“–A good idea.  I know, but I don’t care.  Do you?”

Another step.  Sarah’s heart raced.  ‘No,” she said, detached from her own words.  “No, I don’t.”

Bill grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.  He ran the other hand through her hair until he was cupping the base of her skull, tilting her head up so he could kiss her.

He knew exactly what to do to make her weak in the knees, turned on and eager, and that’s what he did.  He pulled out every trick that had ever worked on her.

Sarah felt a tear slide down her cheek.  She’d missed her Bill so and it seemed like he was here.  But would he yell again? How would he react to that tear now? 

By wiping it away, apparently.  “I hope that was a happy one and not a sign you want away from me.”

Her heart swelled.  It really seemed like her Bill was here with her.  She kissed  _ him _ this time.

“Bedroom,” she whispered.

He led the way and slowly undressed her, taking off her work blouse.

“You betrayed me,” she said, loosening his tie.  “I needed you and you weren’t there for me.”

“I did,” he admitted.  “And I will never forgive myself.”

“You betrayed the boys.  You yelled at them, refused to spend time with them, and then the wreck.”  She slid his dress shirt off his shoulders.

“Another thing I can’t forgive myself for,” he said, murmuring into her hair as he deftly unclipped her bra.

“Are you just saying that to get me in bed?”

Bill stopped what he was doing and gripped her shoulders, holding her so he could look her in the eye.  “I have never lied to you in the bedroom,” he said. “And I never will. I’m deadly serious about not forgiving myself.  The sheer fact you’ve let me in this far amazes me. I don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t,” Sarah agreed.  “But I’ve missed you and it feels like I have you back now.  I don’t want to let you go.”

Bill unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor.  “Then don’t.” He pushed her back on the bed and carefully worked her hose off.  Sarah lifted her hips so he could tug her panties down, too.

Bill got to his knees in front of the bed and bent down to her, kissing his way up her right leg and slipping fingers inside her as his kisses came closer.

_ Fuck _ , she’d forgotten how good he could make her feel with just two fingers and his tongue.  He knew her body so well and all she could do was writhe, happily sighing his name.

She came, quivering, a few minutes later, and when she didn’t feel his breath on her, she knew he’d pulled back to watch her come down from the high.  Just like he always used to.

Once the shaking subsided, she sat up and pushed him back from the bed.  It was her turn to go to her knees. She didn’t want to finish him off – she needed to feel him inside her – but she damn well missed the way he tasted.

“Ten months,” she said.  “Ten months since we’ve done this and if you hadn’t been a jackass, we’d have been together this whole time.”

“Ten  _ fucking _ long months,” he agreed.

“No fucking in those ten months,” she corrected and took him in her mouth before he could reply.  He’d flagged enough she could almost fit all of him in.

Bill shuddered instead of responding.  “Oh God,” he said, reaching down to pull gently at her hair.  Spurred on by his enjoyment, she used one hand to fondle his balls, eliciting a grunt of happiness.  Once he was fully hard and leaking into her mouth, Sarah swirled her tongue around his head and pulled back.

“You know what I want,” she said, completely confident.

“I know I want you,” he answered and pulled her back up onto the bed.  “And I think you want me.” He used two fingers to check that she was still wet.

She could have told him she was.

Bill leaned over her, still muscular despite his age and tiny bit of pudge – no, that pudge was gone.  He must not have been eating well without her.

He entered her quickly, bringing her mind firmly to the present.

“Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” she moaned.

“Boyfriend not as satisfying?” Bill asked with some smugness as he pushed in a little more, letting her get used to him in stages.

“Shut up,” she hissed.  “Shut up and move.”

Bill was always good at following orders.

Sarah knew she was going to be sore in the morning, but oh, it was going to be a good sore.  The sex was quick and hard and maybe a little on the angry side as they both tried to outdo the other.

She came before Bill, biting her lip out of habit to keep from crying his name, as if the boys were asleep in the next room.

“Say it,” he instructed, moving faster as his own climax approached.

“Bill, oh Bill, oh my God, I needed you,” Sarah panted, clawing at his back as she shook with pleasure each stroke he made.

He came with a shout, half muffled into her shoulder.  “Jesus, Sarah!” They lay there a minute before he rolled off her, still breathing heavily, and said, “God, I’ve missed you.”

She propped herself on her side to look at him, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat despite the chill in the air.  “Where’s your hotel?”

“What?”  Bill looked confused.

“Is it far?  Will it be a problem if you have to sneak back there in the morning before you see the boys?”

He cocked an eyebrow.  “Are you asking me to spend the night?”

“Maybe.  If it’s not too inconvenient.”

“Back on 153 by the mall.  But it was for tonight and tomorrow.  I haven’t checked in yet. My stuff is in the truck.”

“Where’d you stay last night?”

“In Dayton.  The department put me up for one night.”

Sarah nodded and reached to pull down the covers of the bed.  “Then you’re staying here and sleeping with me like you should have been doing for ten months.  Just for tonight.” Sadly, she couldn’t let this last any longer, but for one night, Sarah could pretend things were right again.

 

Waking up to the dull ache inside her and the heady smell of Bill surrounding her made Sarah think she was dreaming for a minute.  But no, she opened her eyes and he was there – already awake and watching her.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s creepy to watch someone sleep?” she mumbled.

“Once or twice.”  He leaned in and kissed her good morning.

She stretched languidly, but quickly grew serious.  “You heard me last night, right? We’re still divorced.  Last night didn’t change that. Nor the fact that you go back to Jericho tomorrow and I stay here with the boys.”

Kind of a downer note to wake up on, but Bill nodded.  “I know. I’m telling you now that I want you back, though.  Whether it’s here or there.”

“Bill, last night was really good goodbye sex, nothing else.”

“I thought it was really good make up sex.  Goodbye would have been slower.”

Sarah gave him a sad look.  “Something like only five percent of divorced people ever get back together, or at least that’s what my lawyer said.  We’re not that special.”

“Who says we aren’t?”  He reached for her hand and kissed the spot where her wedding ring used to sit.  “I know you gave my mom your engagement ring. Did you throw away your wedding band?”

It was sitting in her jewelry box not three feet from where they lay, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.  “Why? Did you want it back? And the engagement ring was your grandmother’s. It wouldn’t have been right for me to keep it.  You might meet someone else you want to give it to.”

“If you’re not wearing it, then I guess the only people I’d give it to are the boys, if they wanted to propose with it.  But I’d rather–”

“I know,” she sighed.  “I just… how do you imagine that would work, Bill?  We all move back to Jericho as a happy family and pretend none of this ever happened?  You and Sadie move in to the apartment with us here? We relocate the boys again and all move to Dayton?  How does this work out in your head?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “I want to be wherever you and the boys are, if that’s here or in Kansas.”

“You’re Kansan, born and bred.  You don’t really want to leave,” Sarah said sadly.  “You know it and I know it.”

He looked her in the eye.  “And you’re too attached to Tennessee to leave again?  What about our boys? Are they not also Kansans?”

“They’re young enough it doesn’t matter,” she argued, ignoring his first question.  She’d leave again for Jericho, but it would take some convincing and she wasn’t there yet.  There were too many variables and she said so. “Can I trust you long-term never to betray us like that again?  What do we tell people? Do we marry or just live together? Do we move now or wait for the school year to end? Do we…”  She trailed off.

“Do we what?” Bill prompted.

“Do we ever try again for another baby?  Or was Libby our last chance?” She couldn’t believe she was asking about something that far down the what-if line, but it was a legitimate question.

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, leaning his face against the top of her head.  He should have been holding her like this the whole time, she thought. If he had, they wouldn’t be in this damned position.

“Darlin’, we do whatever you’re comfortable with.  I would love for you to be my wife again, the sooner the better, but I don’t want to push you too much.  I can promise you I’m trustworthy, but I don’t know if you’ll believe it, so take it on evidence. Last night, you saw enough change in me to let me in.  Today, watch me with the boys.” He kissed her head between sentences, breath ruffling her hair. “And as for Libby… We can try again, if that’s what you want.  We won’t forget her by doing that.”

Sarah tried her best, but she couldn’t fight back tears.  Bill had gotten to the root of her last couple questions, the fear she hadn’t spoken.

Maybe it was his fear, too.

He hugged her closer while she cried into his bare chest.  It took her a minute to realize his breathing was erratic and he was crying, too.  Were they finally mourning Libby together?

Sarah snuck an arm around Bill and they stayed there until her phone alarm went off.  Time to get ready to pick up the boys. She pulled back, wiping her face, and noticed him doing the same.

“The boys don’t need to know you spent the night here,” she said.  “Don’t give them hope that’s unfounded.”

He nodded and crawled out of bed.  “I’m going to go get my things while you get ready.  Do you mind if I use the boys’ bathroom?”

Sarah hesitated.  What if the boys noticed someone had used their shower?  They were pretty sharp for little kids. How would she explain that?  “Don’t,” she said finally. “Use mine after I get out. I can get ready while you shower and it won’t take you long once you get out.”

“Just like old times, then.”  Bill gathered up his clothes and started getting dressed.  Once he had on pants and shoes, he said, “I’ll grab my jacket from the entry and that should be enough to get me to the truck and back.”

Sounded cold, but made sense.  Sarah nodded and grabbed her own clothes for the laundry hamper.  She heard Bill leave the apartment as she got into the shower.

He was waiting, bare-chested once more, when she got out.  “Water’s still hot,” she informed him.

He snuck past her in the bathroom and stripped again.  Sarah would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the show, even though she tried not to look.  It  _ was _ almost like old times.

 

Sarah drove them both up the mountain to her parents’ house to pick up the kids.  It made sense to carpool; she had the van and knew her way around better than he did.

Bill was also  _ never _ going to get used to driving up and down mountains at any sort of speed.  He gripped the door handle as Sarah took a tight corner. He knew she was doing the speed limit and they were getting passed, but it still felt too fast.

When they reached the Morgans’ house, he finally released his grip, letting blood flow back into his hand.  Sarah looked over and laughed. “Scared of my driving again?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust, it’s the damn road.”

Another short peal of laughter before she sobered.  “Okay, so. The boys don’t know you’re here or that they aren’t going to school.  I texted Mom while you were in the shower, so she knows. I don’t know how she’s going to receive you, though – you’re firmly in ‘bless his heart’ territory now, so it could go either way.”

Bill nodded.  Sarah had explained ‘bless your heart’ to him his first visit to Chattanooga and how it usually wasn’t a compliment.  He supposed he’d earned that from Nancy. He  _ had _ said some pretty horrible things to her daughter.  “Do you want me to follow you to the door or wait out here?”

“I was thinking maybe you go to the door first and  _ I’ll _ follow.  Let you be the big surprise.”

And face Nancy without Sarah running interference.  Sure. He could do that.

Bill walked up the front porch and rang the doorbell.  Little footsteps galloped to the door and the sound made him smile.  It’d been too long since he saw his sons and now here he was.

He hoped they’d be as happy to see him.

The door opened and there they were: Nathan and Wes, all dressed up for school, hair combed and only a little bit of breakfast still on their faces.  The sight was almost enough to make Bill cry.

“Hey, guys,” he said.  “How are you?”

“Daddy!”  Wes surged forward and hugged Bill, who picked him up and held him, breathing in his scent.  God, he’d missed them.

Nathan hung onto the doorknob.  “Does Mama know you’re here?” he asked.  Bill could tell he was trying so hard to be good and wait until he had permission to hug Bill.

“Yeah, big guy, she does.  She’s right out here with the van.  If you want, you don’t have to go to school today and the four of us can go do stuff.”

Nathan peeked out the door.  Sarah waved to him from the driveway.  After he saw that, Nathan grinned hugely and joined Wes in the hug.  Bill picked him up also.

He missed them so, but damn, they were getting bigger and heavier.  How much longer could he carry them both?

Sarah walked up behind them.  “Your dad’s in town for today only, so I agreed to let him spend it with you.  If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” She looked past Bill. “Morning, Mom.”

Bill finally noticed Nancy in the doorway to the kitchen, just past the stairs.  He kissed both boys on the cheek and set them down. They clung to his legs and he kept a hand on their heads.  “Hello, Nancy,” he said cautiously.

Sarah’s mom walked up to the doorway, giving Sarah a hug as she squeezed by Bill and the boys.  “Hello, Bill,” she said, equally cautiously.

“It’s all right, Mom.  I’m okay with today,” Sarah said and Nancy relaxed a little.  “Dinner last night went well.” Nancy relaxed a little more.

“It’s good to see you again,” Bill said, then looked down at his sons.  “All of you.”

Nancy nodded.  “Looks like they’re picking you over school.”

“Then let’s go,” Sarah said.  “I thought we’d start by taking Daddy up Lookout Mountain.”

Bill blanched when she shot him a mischievous look her mother couldn’t see.  Another mountain?

 

Wes and Nathan battled for the privilege of riding on Bill’s back as they wandered around Chattanooga.  Some places he’d been before – Coolidge Park, for example, and the Children’s Discovery Museum – and some places he hadn’t – Point Park – but he wasn’t paying them much attention.  He wanted to memorize every moment he had with his sons, since he didn’t know when he’d see them again.

Some part of him still hoped that Sarah would change her mind, would come back to Jericho with him.  It didn’t seem to be happening, unfortunately.

He wasn’t going to try to convince her right now.  Maybe he’d try again tonight, before he left.

Unless she invited him to stay again, he was going to find a cheap motel on the interstate between Chattanooga and Nashville; he’d called the hotel he was supposed to stay at and found he lost his room both nights by not showing up the first.  It made sense and he didn’t regret staying with Sarah, but it rankled to lose almost $200 to a reservation he never used.

The boys played on large concrete animal figures in Coolidge Park while Bill and Sarah watched.  It was going to be dark soon and he feared what that meant.

“You want to come back to the apartment and play with them until dinner?” Sarah asked, unknowingly easing Bill’s fears.  “Then we can do dinner at Ichiban – the boys love it and it’ll be something new for you.”

Ichiban?  Sounded Asian, whatever it was.  Sarah was enjoying having more restaurants to choose from, he could tell.

Maybe he never would get her away from Chattanooga again.  Maybe Rhea County was his best hope, or should he look for something in town now?  Would she want to continue seeing him if  _ he _ moved or was last night truly a one-time thing?

“That sounds good,” he said, trying to cover what he was really thinking.

“They’re really happy you’re here,” Sarah said.  “It’s like they’ve forgotten everything that happened in Jericho.”

Bill smiled.  He’d been scared the boys would be terrified of him.  The moment Wes hugged him melted those fears away, however.  He was grateful; he didn’t want the boys dwelling on the bad things whether or not they ever forgave him.  He seemed to be lucking out this trip.

Then Sarah burst his bubble.  “That makes me worry they’ll remember if they go back.  I was going to try to get to Jericho for a couple days after Christmas so they could stay with your mom while I stayed with the Taylors, but now I worry.  Maybe it’d be better if we  _ didn’t _ go and they kept the good memories.”

No!  That was the exact opposite direction than Bill wanted her thoughts to go.  “You can’t insulate them forever, Sarah. They’re going to have to come back sometime.  Christmas would be a good time; it’s full of good memory-making things. They may be so distracted they don’t remember the bad.”

She looked at him.  “You’re not going to try to talk me into letting them stay with you?”

He wanted to.  “That’s up to you.  You know I’d love them – and you – but legally I have no say.”

“You’re back to caring about legality?  No drunk driving like a crazy person anymore?”

Bill closed his eyes.  “No. Never again.”

“You’re my straight-laced Bill again, huh?”  Her eyes went wide as she realized what she said.

For his part, Bill schooled his face so he didn’t react.  “I’m trying.”

She watched him for a bit.  “I can tell,” she said eventually.

Wes ran up with scraped knees, needing kisses to make them feel better.  Bill picked him up, holding him sitting in his arms, so Sarah could reach his knees without having to get on the ground.

“You too, Daddy,” he was informed, so Bill dutifully kissed his son’s knees too.  Four exaggerated kisses and Wes was all better, running off to climb the concrete lion again.

Sarah’s phone rang.  She pulled it out of her purse and blushed.  “It’s Clay,” she informed him. “I didn’t call him back last night, so I’d better take this.”  She took a few steps away and answered.

Bill wasn’t consciously  _ trying _ to eavesdrop, but she wasn’t that far away.

“Sorry about last night.  My ex is in town to see the boys.  Yes, all day today. He leaves tomorrow.  Dinner? Clay, I don’t think that’s a good idea.  You’re determined, aren’t you?” She argued a little more then sighed.  “Okay then. Ichiban at five-thirty, the one on Hixson Pike.”

She hung up the phone and walked back to Bill.  Something must have shown on his face because she asked if he heard that.

Bill tried to shrug lightly.  “So your boyfriend wants to meet your ex.  Mark his territory, probably.” That was  _ not _ going to be easy to watch.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sarah insisted.  “But yes, he wants to join us for dinner.”

“And you told him yes.”

“He wasn’t exactly taking no for an answer,” she shrugged.  “The boys won’t like it, but oh well.”

He got the impression Sarah didn’t like it either, but was too polite to say anything.

So.  Great.  Dinner with his family turned into dinner with Sarah’s new boyfriend that he’d rather pretend didn’t exist.

 

_ Just dinner.  No holding hands, even.  No bothering the boys while they’re trying to spend time with their father.  Let them have this time together. _

Sarah tried to lay down ground rules.  She didn’t know if Clay would listen. He usually did, but not always – and she didn’t know if he felt threatened by Bill’s presence or not.

She wasn’t sure if he  _ should _ feel threatened or not.  If she were going by just sex, Bill had Clay beat, hands down.  But her feelings for Bill were all a jumble while Clay was more uncomplicated.  It would be simpler to stay with Clay. Maybe remarry someday, give the boys a stepfather.

But her heart beat faster every time Bill looked at her, in a good way.  It would be awkward as hell to move back and explain, “Oops, we were wrong about divorcing, everything’s good now,” but would that be better for the boys?  Surely they’d be happier if their parents were together again. Would it be better for them to stay here and let Bill move to join them? Less explanation that way, but harder on Bill.

She missed Jericho, to be honest.  She missed Margaret and Joanna and the library.  She even missed gossipy Jennifer – she was at least competent at her job and didn’t ride Sarah the way her new coworkers did.

Fuck, was she talking herself into moving back home to Jericho?

No.  Wait.  Jericho wasn’t home anymore.  She’d forgotten that being around Bill.  Forgotten that  _ he _ wasn’t home anymore.

Shit.  What was she going to do?

 

The boys led Bill into the restaurant, each dragging one of his hands.  He’d heard all about the place – hibachi, Sarah called it – on the way over and had to admit, it sounded intriguing.

Nathan and Wes pulled up short in the lobby.  “Mr. Prescott,” Nathan said, with the tiniest hint of distaste.

Bill looked at the man waiting for them.  He knew he was biased, but he thought Sarah could certainly have done better than that.  He was taller than Bill, yes, but soft and a little heavyset.

If he mentioned it to Sarah, he was sure she’d point out she was soft and heavyset as well, especially after three pregnancies.  But it looked good on her and it always had, he thought. He couldn’t say the same for this man.

Sarah greeted the man with a hug and Bill felt a pang inside.  He covered it by freeing his hand from Nathan’s grasp and holding it out for a handshake.  “Bill Koehler,” he introduced himself. “You must be Clay.”

They shook.  “Clay Prescott.  I’ve heard lots about you from the boys and Sarah.”  His tone indicated he’d heard some of the worst things.  He was obviously sizing Bill up, just as Bill had done to him, and finding Bill lacking.

Bill wasn’t too surprised.  But at least he had his sons at  _ his _ side, not this other man’s. 

Sarah stepped between them, breaking the burgeoning testosterone challenge.  “Okay, let’s get a table.”

They sat around a large stovetop, Clay next to Sarah and Bill between the boys.  Bill would have sat next to Sarah, too, but the boys fought over who got to sit next to him and it was easier to appease both of them this way.

“You’ll appreciate the filet,” Sarah suggested, leaning across Wes to talk to him.  “Shrimp is good, too.”

“Can I have shrimp, Mama?” Nathan piped up.  “I’m tired of chicken.”

Sarah shrugged.  “I suppose so. But eat all your shrimp.”

“I’ll help you if you don’t,” Bill whispered conspiratorially and Nathan giggled.

The chef came out and started performing tricks while the stove heated up.  The boys watched, rapt, and Bill watched the boys. Every now and again, he snuck a peek over at Sarah and Clay, feeling a bit of jealousy rise up whenever Clay casually touched her.

He tried not to think about Sarah kicking him out after this and taking Clay home with her.  For one, he didn’t want his day with the boys to end, and for another, he didn’t want…

Well.  He didn’t want  _ that _ to happen any more.

Bill took a little heart from the fact that Sarah didn’t return Clay’s touches.  She seemed much more intent on cutting up Wes’ chicken into bite sized pieces while Bill oversaw Nathan’s meal.  Sarah needn’t have worried about Nathan’s appetite; for a six year old, he put away a surprising amount of shrimp and rice.

“So what brought you down here?” Clay spoke up.  “Sarah said you almost never leave Kansas.”

“Oh, I’ve been here plenty of times before, visiting Sarah’s family,” Bill said.  “We got married here in Tennessee, too.” Let Clay think on that.

“Bill had a job interview in Dayton,” Sarah said, answering for Bill.  She shot him a look and he knew she didn’t want him to get into it with Clay in front of the boys. 

Clay didn’t get the same look. “Couldn’t find something in town?”

“I liked Dayton,” Bill said.  “It’s about the same size as Jericho.  Sarah has some family from there, too.”  See, he knew stuff Clay apparently didn’t – he  _ had _ listened – and hopefully Clay came off sounding dismissive.

“What sort of job?  I wouldn’t think you could go back to law enforcement after the wreck.”

“I wasn’t charged,” Bill said defensively.  “So yes, law enforcement. Rhea County deputy.”

“I feel safer already.”

Sarah gave Clay the look then.  “Stop it, you two,” she instructed.  The boys looked between the adults, confused.

Bill kept his mouth shut to keep from irritating her further.  Clay just shrugged. “Sorry,” he said, sounding insincere.

The checks came and Clay grabbed everyone’s.  Bill glowered. He didn’t want to be in this man’s debt.  He could pay for his family, damn it. It’d bust his trip budget, but he could do it.

It was too late, however.  Clay handed his card to the server before Bill could protest.

“Thank you,” Sarah said.  “You didn’t have to do that for all of us.”

“I wanted to,” Clay shrugged again. 

Bill had no choice but to thank Clay, too.  The boys followed his example and said “Thank you” as well, though he didn’t think they really knew why they were thanking Clay.

The card came back, Clay signed the receipt, and the moment Bill had been dreading came.  What was Sarah going to ask him to do?

He hugged the boys as they stood in the lobby.  Sarah watched him for a minute, biting her lip, then spoke quietly to Clay.

Was she inviting him over?  Please no.

“Bill, you want to stay until bedtime?” she asked and he could have cheered.  Nathan did. 

“I don’t want to intrude on the two of you,” Bill said, in case Clay was invited too.

Clay looked at the ground.

“You’re not,” Sarah said firmly.

“Then I’d love to,” Bill said, brightening.  He looked down at his sons and their beaming faces warmed his heart.  He didn’t have to leave them yet, thank God, and Sarah hadn’t invited this man over either.  He could spend his last moments with just his family.

Trying to be polite, Bill shook Clay’s hand again.  “Nice to meet you,” he said.  _ Stay away from my wife _ , he thought.   _ Ex-wife.  Whatever. _

“Have a good trip back to Kansas,” Clay said.   _ You’re leaving and I’m still here, _ Bill heard.

 

Sarah rolled her eyes and hugged Clay goodbye.  She’d told him she really wanted the boys to have all the time with Bill as they could, so they’d get together another day.

She didn’t mention she wanted time with Bill, too.

Herding everyone back to the van took a minute, even with Bill to help her strap the boys in their carseats.  Nathan was old enough he complained about it, but he was small and slight so he still needed one. Bill had drilled the importance of booster seats and such into her and she’d listened.

The boys eagerly led Bill into the apartment and showed him their bedroom.  He acted properly impressed, as if he hadn’t seen it last night.

He really was good with them.  When he wasn’t full of rage or drunk.

Sarah started picking up some toys from the den floor and tossed them in a storage bin, listening to Nathan and Wes talking excitedly in the next room.  She might  _ never _ get them to bed tonight if they were this wound up.

She was considering inviting Bill to stay another night.  Maybe not for sex, but just for comfort. He hadn’t said anything, but she figured he’d lost his hotel reservation because of last night, and she didn’t want to force him to find somewhere in a strange city in the dark.

Was she stupid to do that?  Was she inviting him in too much?  She  _ should _ have firm boundaries with him, she knew.  The last year had shown her that. But it was hard to when he was so obviously happy to be with them again, when he’d straightened up.  When he no longer presented a danger.

She stuck her head in the boys’ bedroom; they had a board game out and Bill was playing with them.  Sarah felt a grin sneak on her face.

“Do you guys want hot chocolate?” she asked.

Bill looked at her, eyebrow quirked.  Oh yes, she remembered last night’s version of hot chocolate too.  Sarah blushed and he quickly turned back to the board game.

“Marshmallows?” asked Wes, completely oblivious.

“Yeah, honey.  You can have marshmallows, but only two big ones.”  She was asking for a sticky mess, but if it made the boys even happier tonight, well.  It was worth it. They hadn’t smiled this much in months. Before the fights started, actually, so in ten months.  “Move your game out to the table so you can drink it,” she instructed.

“Need help?” Bill asked.

Sarah fought off another blush.  “I think I’ve got it,” she said.

She put a little extra milk in the boys’ hot chocolate, hoping the warm milk would make them sleepy and more compliant at bedtime.  It certainly didn’t work right away – Nathan was loud and Wes was giggly while they got marshmallow all over their faces and sticky fingers all over the game pieces.  Bill tried to hush them, but he only made so much headway.

Their eyes caught across the table.  Bill shrugged slightly and mouthed, “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” she mouthed back, shaking her head a little bit.  The boys were destined to be wound up whether he’d come over for bedtime or not.  At least tonight she had some backup when that time rolled around.

Hot chocolate mugs drained and put in the dishwasher, Sarah checked the clock.  Quarter to eight. “Nathan. Wes. You know what time it is.”

She braced herself for the inevitable fussing and she wasn’t disappointed.

“Hey!” Bill said, silencing them.  “Listen to your mother. It’s time to get ready for bed.”

“Don’t go, Daddy,” said Wes, lip trembling.  “Stay.”

Bill reached out to both boys and rubbed their backs.  “I can’t, Wes. I’ve got to go back home. But I’ll stay and read you both stories if you go get ready now.”

That promise got results.  Nathan and Wes about ran over each other in their rush to brush their teeth.  Nathan won the race and got in the bathtub before Wes was through with his teeth.  Wes came crying to Sarah: couldn’t he take a bath with Nathan so he didn’t miss a story?

It took some negotiations and some help, but both boys bathed, put on pajamas, and got Bill to comb their hair out.  There was another race to the bedroom, where they each picked out about five stories each.

Sarah stood in the door and watched Bill read to them, alternating each boy’s book pick.  He was on Wes’ second story when both of them finally fell asleep. Bill quietly put the books back on the shelf and kissed each boy.

He slid an arm around Sarah and kissed her forehead, too.  They stepped into the hall and closed the bedroom door, all without Bill letting go.  Sarah wasn’t complaining.

“I guess you want me gone now,” he said.  “Or do you want me to help you clean up first?”

She placed a hand on his chest.  “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay tonight.  I know you have to leave before the boys get up, but you’ll save money on another hotel.”

Bill covered her hand with his.  “You’re sure? You want me on the couch?”

“No,” she said and reached up to kiss him.

If this was a mistake, she was going all in.

 

Bill almost didn’t respond to the kiss, he was so surprised.  Sarah had actually initiated some intimacy? The same Sarah who tried to push him back away this morning?

In that moment, though, it didn’t matter.  He opened up to her, pulling her as close as he could get her.  He didn’t let go until she pushed lightly at his chest.

“Go get your things,” she said.  “We’ll go from there.”

Reluctantly, he let go of her and braved the cold again.  When he came back in, he didn’t see her. Locking the door behind him, he walked quietly to her bedroom.

She was there, only half-dressed. 

He set down his bag and rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them back up.  She watched him, amused.

“Eager, are you?”

Truthfully, he was, but he knew she was joking.  “Just surprised,” he said softly, walking up to her.  He ran his hands down her sides to rest on her hips. “I thought you’d kick me out.”

“I should have,” she said.  “I should send you away. I shouldn’t have let you have today with the boys.  But…”

“But what?”  Bill’s heart was sinking.  If she still thought those things…

“But I still have feelings for you,” Sarah said quickly, almost stumbling over the words.  “I never stopped, even when you hurt me and pushed me away. I still loved the old you and you seem to have found yourself again.”

He hadn’t expected that.  “So let’s try this again,” he said hopefully.  “I’m not me when you’re not with me.”

“It’s so damn complicated, though.  Bill, I can’t just fall in your arms and forget the last ten months ever happened.  And then there’s this thing with Clay. He’s simple. Uncomplicated. Not too much baggage.”

Bill rubbed his thumbs over her stomach, trying to bring her thoughts back to him.  “Sarah, I can’t make your mind up for you. I can’t erase what happened. But I can promise to hold to our vows in the future, whether you marry me again or not.  I made them once and I still want to keep them.”

She shook her head.  “I know you’ll try, but I’ll always be scared you’ll turn on me again.”  Belying her words, she ran her hands under his shirt, warm against his cold skin.

Bill sighed and kissed the top of her head.  “You’ve got to decide whether to trust me or not.  I’ve done my best to show you I’ve changed. I want you to believe me, but I can’t make you.”  He tilted her face until they were looking at each other again. “Whatever you decide, thank you for letting me have today.  You have no idea how I’ve missed our sons and how good it was to see them again.”

Sarah pulled back and sat on the bed, taking off the rest of her clothes.  “I’m overthinking this, I know,” she admitted. “I keep going in circles.”

“Then let me help you stop thinking,” Bill said suggestively.  He pulled off his shirt and pinned her to the bed with kisses trailing from her ear to her breasts to her belly button, throwing in a little nip here and there in the places she liked.

Sarah forced him back, sitting up and reaching for his pants.  He was mostly hard by the time she palmed him through his jeans and definitely hard after.  Tantalizingly slow, she finished undressing him.

He tried to lean over her again, but she shook her head and patted the bed beside her.

Ah.  She wanted to be on top, to have some control.  He could deal with that.

He lay down on the other side of the bed and she crawled to him, peppering his body with kisses and nibbles like he’d done to her a couple minutes ago.  He noticed she was fingering herself, so he reached down and took over, allowing her better balance.

Sarah climbed atop him and bent over, catching his lower lip with her teeth.  With only a little guidance, she slid down on him. He jerked upwards, pushing further inside her. 

She threw her head back and he reached to hold her hips again, but lightly so she could set the pace.

It was slow and sweet, the opposite of last night’s sex.  Bill had a brief thought that maybe she meant  _ this _ as goodbye sex after his comment, but he pushed it away.  He had enough to concentrate on: the way Sarah felt around him, so warm and welcoming.  The way she bit her lip and made little grunts as he moved up to meet her on the downstrokes.  The sheer sight of the woman he loved, who apparently still loved him too.

He never wanted this to end.

Bracing herself on his chest and breathing heavily, Sarah moved faster.  “Promise me,” she panted. “Promise me you will take care of the boys like you’re supposed to.  Love them like you’re supposed to.”

She didn’t stop and it took Bill a minute to gather the brain cells to respond.  “I will. I promise. I do.”

“Then they can stay with you when we visit for Christmas.”

_ Jesus _ .  Christmas was not at the forefront of his mind at the moment, but that was damned good news.  “Y-You?” he stuttered when she tweaked a nipple.

“We’ll see,” was all she said.

There wasn’t time for more conversation because Bill felt himself getting close.  “Babe…” he warned.

She nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and flicked herself quickly to catch up.

Bill came, gaping silently, pushing up inside Sarah as far as he could while she pressed down.  He wanted to cry out, but they had five years of practice keeping quiet. Last thing he wanted to do was wake the boys and get caught like this.

Sarah pulled off him and he knew she hadn’t come yet.  As quickly as he could force himself to move, he got between her legs and started licking and sucking.  It took less than a minute, so she’d been close before, but she trembled and bit a finger, also trying to orgasm silently.

Fuck, he’d missed this.  Missed this with her, to be specific.  He couldn’t imagine sleeping with anyone else ever again.

It hurt a little that she’d found someone else, but he felt more confident now that Sarah said she still loved him.  He couldn’t fault her for trying to move on when she thought he was still the angry man he’d been.

Crawling back up to the head of the bed, he pulled Sarah tight against him, her back to his chest.  “I love you,” he said. “I’m always going to. I just forgot that for a while.”

She breathed deeply.  “I love you, too, Bill, but I don’t know what I want or what is best.  You’ve got to give me time to figure it out. Please.”

Bill propped himself up and rolled her on her back so he could kiss her.  “Think about it. But don’t forget how I feel about you and the boys. I told you I want you back.  I want to be a family again. I’ll try to understand if that’s not what you want.”

“I don’t  _ know _ yet.”

“I know you don’t.”  He brushed hair from her forehead and kissed it again.

With years of coordination behind them, they both got up to get under the covers at the same time.  Settling into the bed, the pictures on Sarah’s bedside table caught his eye. He reached across her and picked one up.

“I hated that you took this picture,” he said, looking at Libby.  “I wish we’d been able to take more.”

“That wasn’t on our mind that day,” Sarah said, touching a couple fingers to the frame.  “It was more important to hold her while we had her.”

They’d had too short a time with their daughter, Bill thought.  Some places did professional photoshoots for babies like Libby, for the memories, but the Jericho Clinic was not set up for that.  Having a nurse use Sarah’s phone to take a photo was the best they could do.

“I can make you a copy,” Sarah offered.

He carefully put the photo back.  “I’d like that.” He pulled her close again, this time to sleep.  “It’d be nice to have pictures of all our children.”

She smiled sleepily.  “You realize this trip is the first time since you got mad that you’ve referred to ‘our sons’ and ‘our children’ instead of ‘yours.’  One of the reasons I let you stay.”

He hadn’t.  And he certainly hadn’t realized it was that important, though now that he thought about it…  “I wasn’t thinking about you before you left. I was too wrapped up in myself.”

She placed a hand on his cheek.  “But you’re not now.”

Warmth radiated from within him.  She saw that. She really saw that now.  “I’m not. And I won’t ever be again.” He gave her a squeeze.  “Good night, Sarah. I love you,” he murmured.

Sarah whispered a good night.  “Love you, too, Bill.”

 

Leaving had been hard, but Bill was sent off only after saying goodbye to his sleeping sons, a final kiss from Sarah, and another promise the boys could stay with him for a few days after Christmas.

He’d hit the road before sunrise and made it through Nashville before the morning rush.  He was nearing the Illinois border when his phone rang. He hoped the cell phone laws in Kentucky weren’t that strict, because the number was the Rhea County sheriff’s department.

“Hello?” he answered, heart pounding.  What would they say?

“Bill?  This is Mike Neal.”  The sheriff.

“Hello, sir,” he repeated.

“I’ve thought about it and I think you’d be a good fit here.  I’d like to make you an offer.” The sheriff named a salary about commensurate with what he made in Jericho and a start date just after the new year.

Bill froze, unsure of what to say.  After an eternal moment, he said, “I like that offer, but there’s someone I need to discuss it with first, if you don’t mind.  May I call you back later today or do you need an answer now?”

“The ex?  Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“It’s okay, sir.”

“Talk to her, or whoever it is.  I’m leaving the office at three, though, so try to catch me before then.”

“I will.  Thank you for this chance.”

“Hope you’ll be joining us.”

“Me, too.  Thank you again.”

Bill hung up the phone and thought for a minute.  He needed to tell Sarah about the offer, but he wanted to check something else first.  He dialed.

“Sheriff’s office,” said a dull voice.  Bill remembered being that bored, too.

“Connor.  Sorry, Sheriff,” he corrected himself.  “This is Bill.”

Connor’s voice perked up.  Bill’s call was something different in his day.  “What do you need?”

“I wanted to see how serious you were about letting me come back in the new year after Ryan leaves.  If you were just saying that to be polite, I understand. I’ve got an offer from another department and am trying to decide if I want to take it or not.”

“And you’d rather stay here.”

“I think I would.”

“Even being a deputy again?  I’m not stepping down for you, at least not until next election.”

“I’m not after your job.  If you don’t like it, I’ll run again since I know the job, but if you want it, I won’t challenge you.”  Bill tried to sound reassuring. “I just want to patrol with Jimmy again, if he’ll have me.”

Connor was silent on the other end of the line for a minute.  “How much is this other department offering you?”

Bill thought about inflating the salary, but went with the truth.

A sigh.  “I can’t offer you much more than that, but you won’t have to move, so that should count for something.  Since we don’t have to pay to send you to the Academy, that frees up a little money.” Connor named an amount two thousand dollars more than Neal’s offer.

“If you’re sure, I’ll take it,” Bill said, giving Connor a chance to back out.

“No, Bill.  You’ve got the job if you want it.  I heard from Jimmy that you’re doing better and his word counts for a lot, considering what you did.  I’m trusting Jimmy here, so don’t let me down.”

“Got it.  When do you want me to start?”

“You’re low man on the totem pole again, so New Year’s Day?  Don’t want to start you before then or I have to do extra tax paperwork.”

“Makes sense.  Okay, I need to make a couple more calls.”  Bill paused. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

He could about hear Connor shrug.  “I gave you crap in the past, but you were always one of the good ones.”

Bill hadn’t expected that from the new sheriff, but he’d take it.

Two more phone calls. 

He got Sarah’s voicemail, as he’d expected.  He left a message saying he’d gotten a firm offer from Connor and was going to stay in Jericho.  Was going to be a deputy again. He wanted to add that he hoped she’d rejoin him there, but decided that might be too pushy.

Next he had to call Sheriff Neal back and turn him down.  He wasn’t looking forward to that call, so he put it off until he was through St. Louis.

“That’s a damn shame,” Neal said.  “But I understand. Hope you work things out so you still get to see your kids often.”

“After this visit, I feel more confident about that,” Bill said.  “I appreciate you being willing to give me a chance. I know I’m not an ideal newbie.”

The sheriff scoffed.  “You’ve got a lot of good experience.  That counts for a lot. Give me a call if your job at home falls through or if there’s ever any way we can help your department.”

“Yes, sir.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bill hung up again and wondered how his life had turned around so much, just by working through his anger.

He knew it was still there, deep down inside him, but it’d always been there.  He usually kept it tamped down where no one could tell.

Well, Sarah and Jimmy and Stanley knew him well enough to know it was there, but they were usually the reasons he kept it under control.  He’d just lost that control for months and destroyed his life.

And yet here were people willing to give him a second chance.  He didn’t deserve that, he knew, but he was going to take those chances and treasure them.

 

Sarah listened to Bill’s voicemail with mixed feelings.  She’d figured he’d stay in Jericho if he got the job back, but things  _ would _ have been easier if he were just one county over, not fifteen hours away.

As soon as the voicemail finished, she called Margaret.

“Hey, stranger!”

Sarah grinned.  “Hey, Margaret. How’re things in Jericho?”

“Same old, same old.  How was Bill’s visit?”

“It went quite well, actually.  I’m going to bring the boys up after Christmas and let them stay with him for two or three days.  I wanted to check if I could stay with you while they’re there.”

“You know you’re always welcome.”

A pause.  “There’s a chance I may not need it.  I may stay with Bill and the boys, but I wanted to make sure I had a place with you, too.”

“Oh?”  Margaret perked up.  “Tell me about this.”

Sarah sat in her car in the bank parking lot, turning as red as the shirt she’d worn to be festive.  “Well. Um. You were right. Bill’s like his old self again. And he had the most amazing apology.”

“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Margaret asked eagerly.  “I knew you’d fall for him again.”

Turning even redder, Sarah confirmed it.  “Twice,” she said, covering her face with her free hand.  “Both nights he was here. The boys don’t know he slept over either night.”

“Jimmy said Connor’s hiring him back, so he’s staying in town.  What are  _ you _ going to do?” 

Muffled in the background, Sarah heard Jimmy’s voice.  “Yes, it’s Sarah. Who did you think it was?” Margaret asked with a huff.

Sarah grinned, some of the embarrassment draining away.  “Tell him I said hi.”

Margaret passed it on and then focused back in on Sarah.  “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know.  We’ve made a life here, but if Bill’s himself, wouldn’t it be better for the boys if we were at least in the same town?  My parents can afford the trip out to Jericho better than Bill and his mom can afford to come here regularly.” Sarah tapped the steering wheel anxiously.

“You and the boys are still welcome here, if you need a place to stay while you get settled moving back.”

Sarah laughed.  “You’ve already decided I’m moving back, have you?”

“Haven’t you?”

That caught Sarah up short.  She’d been thinking about the logistics of a move ever since Bill left.  But was that the wisest thing? She had a job here, an apartment lease that was still up for six more months, and Clay.

“I don’t know.  I want to,” she admitted.  “Seeing Bill made me miss Jericho so badly.  But I don’t know how to make it work.”

“I bet you can get your job at the library back.”

“I doubt it.  And I was only there part time, anyway.  I’d need full time.”

“Not if you moved back in with Bill.  And there’d be none of this crazy expensive school stuff.  Just Wes’ preschool.”

“Margaret…  You make it sound so easy.”

“It can be.”

Sarah shook her head, even though Margaret couldn’t see it.  “Maybe I’ll make a decision when we come out at the end of the month.”

“I think you’ll know what you want before then,” Margaret predicted.

Sarah knew she was right.  She already ached missing Bill and he’d only been gone twelve hours.  Seeing him at Christmas and maybe in the summer just wasn’t going to cut it.

Clay wasn’t going to cut it.  She needed to figure out how to gracefully end it with him.  It would probably sting to lose out to the ex-husband, but, well, yesterday convinced her the boys needed Bill in their lives.

She knew what Margaret wanted.  She knew what Bill wanted.

She didn’t know what the boys wanted, though she suspected they’d want to go home.

Time to do what any self-respecting southern woman does when they don’t know what to do.

Ask Mom.

 

Sarah left out the sleeping together part when she sat down with her mom while the boys ‘helped’ her dad in the garage, but she tried to include everything else.

“He’s the Bill I loved again,” she explained.  “And my heart wants to go back to him. I know every horrible thing he said or did – I haven’t forgotten – but I think I can forgive.  And after yesterday, I think the boys need him in their lives more than just a few times a year.”

“What about everything here?” Nancy asked.

“That’s the problem,” Sarah sighed.  “I can break my lease, but it’ll use up the savings I had to pay for Nathan’s school.  I won’t be able to use that money to move on or to live on up there until I get a job.”

“So you’re not talking about moving back in with Bill?  Just moving back to Jericho?”

“I don’t know.”  She buried her face in her hands.  “I was thinking if I did this, we need to move over Christmas, before I get charged for another month of school.  But I always wanted to use Christmas to see where I wanted to live when I got there.”

“Can you stay with someone?  Pam? The Taylors?”

“The Taylors have already invited the boys and I back while we figure it out.”

Nancy didn’t look convinced, but she nodded.  “Sarah, sweetheart, it sounds like you already made up your mind to move.  I’ll talk to your father and maybe we can help with the move. Maybe we can help you pack everything into a U-Haul and follow you up there.”

Sarah watched her mom for a moment.  “You’d do that when I can tell you’re not thrilled with the idea?”

“This is your life.  We’ve had enough arguments to establish that you get to decide what to do.  Your dad and I are just going to step back and let you do it. If you need help, we’re always here.  Just ask.” Nancy looked down at the table. “I didn’t see Bill with the boys yesterday, so I don’t have the changed opinion you do.  But I know you’re a good mother, so if you think this is best for the boys, it probably is.”

The compliment was unexpected.  Usually Nancy kept those thoughts to herself, if she had them.  “So if I wanted to pack up and be up there on Christmas morning to surprise Bill, you’d help me out?”

“We’re not driving through the night, but we’ll follow you a couple days behind with your stuff.  And I want to give the boys their presents early.”

“Deal,” Sarah said.

She was really going to do this.  She was really going to move back to Jericho.  No job this time, no place to live except a friend’s guest room, no idea where the boys would stay either.

What the hell was she thinking?

 

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2n700es) 

 

Bill slept in Christmas morning.  He didn’t have anywhere to be until lunch at his mother’s, so why not?  Of course, he woke early as usual, but rolled over to go back to sleep.

That’s when he heard the van.

He knew it was Sarah’s van.  He  _ knew _ that engine whine.  He’d tried for a year to fix it and never got anywhere.

But… it couldn’t be.  They weren’t coming up until tomorrow.

The engine sounds stopped in the driveway.

Bill leapt out of bed, stopping only to check that he did in fact have pajamas on.  He ran to the front door and yes, it was Sarah getting out of the van. She signaled for him to stay quiet.

Without talking, he ran up to her and kissed her.  “What are you doing here?” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered back.  “The boys are your first present. They’re still asleep, so help me get the Santa presents in before they wake up.”

Bill nodded and opened the trunk as quietly as possible.  There were four suitcases. Sarah pointed to the top one and Bill grabbed it.

“I don’t have the tree up,” he said softly.

“That’s okay.  Just pile them in the living room where we usually put them.”  She followed him in with the boys’ suitcases. “In their rooms?”

Bill nodded.  He hadn’t washed their sheets yet, but he could get that done before naptime.

Sarah helped Bill unload the last of the Santa presents and took the suitcase from him.  “I’m going to put this one back in the car. You go wake them up.”

Happily.  He slid the van’s door open loud enough both boys began to stir.  He unbuckled Wes, closest to him, and picked up the sleepy boy. “Merry Christmas, Wes,” he said.

Wes and Nathan both woke more at his voice.  “Daddy?” they both asked.

Bill almost wept with joy.  “Yeah, boys. You’re in Jericho for Christmas, which is good, because this is where Santa came.”

That perked them both up.  “Santa came?” Nathan asked.  He unbuckled himself and threw himself at Bill.  “Presents, Daddy!”

“Yes, presents,” Sarah said.  “Go on in and see.”

Bill set them down and they ran inside.  The happy yelps could be heard in the driveway.

He closed the van’s doors and turned to Sarah.  “You should have told me you were coming today.”

She shrugged.  “Wanted it to be a surprise.  I drove through the night so they could spend all day with you.”

Kissing her one more time, he said, “I can’t believe you’re here.  How long are you staying? Are you staying here?”

“Well,” Sarah said.  “That’s your second Christmas present.  My parents are following us in a couple of days with a U-Haul and all our stuff.  We’re moving back to Jericho.”

Bill was stunned.  “You are–? What about your job?  Clay?”

Sarah looked as the ground.  “Gonna have to find a job. And I told Clay it just wasn’t going to work out.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Sarah and the boys back home? “Where are you staying?  Stay here. Stay with me.”

“Sarah,” he said firmly.  “You  _ cannot _ tell me you’re moving back to Jericho and not coming back home where you all belong.  This is  _ our _ house and it’s too empty without you in it.  It’s not a home.”

“So it’s  _ our _ house again?” she asked wryly.  “Used to be, it was  _ your _ house.”

“Don’t remind me of my idiocy on Christmas.  Just bring your suitcase in too and stay. Stay tonight.  Stay forever.”

Sarah didn’t say anything, but she did open the trunk and grab the last suitcase.  “Let’s see how this works for a couple days,” she said. “And go from there.”

Bill took the suitcase from her, taking it to their bedroom before she could argue.

They met again in the hallway, looking in the living room.  The boys had properly divvied up their Santa presents and were engrossed in them:  LEGO sets for Nathan, magnetic building shapes for Wes. There were the requisite educational toys, but they’d been tossed aside for the more fun ones.

Bill wrapped an arm around Sarah’s waist as they watched.  She leaned her head against his shoulder.

This was a home again.

 

Pam knew they were coming, so there was plenty of food and good cheer at lunch, which already made it different from the last time they all ate together.  Sarah couldn’t satisfactorily answer all her questions, though.

Were they getting married again?  “I don’t know. Right now, I think it’s more important to focus on whether or not we can get along long-term again.”

Would the boys be at Bill’s permanently?  “Probably, since I’m staying at the house for now.  If we can’t get along, though, I’ll find somewhere in town and they’ll stay with me.”

What had changed her mind?  Sarah and Bill both blushed.  “He was his old self when he was with the boys,” she explained.  The sex wasn’t the only reason, damn it. “And I realized how much they need him in their lives.”

“Almost as much as I need them,” Bill added, ruffling Nathan’s hair.  The boy didn’t shy away this time and Sarah smiled at him. “I’d let myself forget that.”

“I also realized I was still in love with the man I married.  He was gone for a while, but he seems to have come back,” Sarah confessed, watching Bill as she spoke.  “I owed it to the boys to give Bill a second chance.”

“And Santa wouldn’t have found us in Tennessee,” said Nathan, picking at his half-empty plate.  “He brought our toys  _ here _ .”

“Santa knew where you needed to be,” Pam told the boys. 

They both seemed to be happy to be back, Sarah thought.  Even Wes, who was more focused on chasing grapes from the fruit salad with his fork than the conversation at hand.  She could almost believe the last ten months had never happened.

Almost.

If she closed her eyes, she still heard echoes of the fight she and Bill had the last time they were all here at Pam’s.  Driving by Town Hall made her think of his accusation that she couldn’t keep the boys alive, since she’d killed Libby.

Conversational echoes, nothing more, but strong enough to stay in her head.

This was going to take some work from them both.  Bill needed to be his old self or better and Sarah needed to forgive.

They split after lunch, Bill taking the boys back home to play with Sadie and Sarah heading to the Taylors’ house.

She’d forgotten just how big and welcoming Jimmy’s hugs were.  “Missed you,” she said when he stepped back. “And you too!” as Margaret came in for her hug.

“I don’t see your stuff,” Margaret said.  “Are you staying with us?”

“Bill asked me to stay with him and the boys and I told him we’d do a trial run of a couple of days,” Sarah said.  “I don’t know the exact reason why, but I trust him with the boys again. He did well with them a couple weeks ago, but logically I should have waited for more evidence.  I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“You’re thinking he’s back to himself,” Jimmy said.  “Did Margaret tell you he’s been by here a couple times to apologize to all of us, even the kids?”

“I might have forgotten that,” Margaret admitted.

Sarah gave Margaret a sharp look.  “Didn’t think it was pertinent?”

Her friend shrugged.  “I thought I’d done enough encouraging you to come back here.  That maybe you’d think I was pushing you too much or making stuff up.”

Sarah punched Margaret’s arm lightly.  “You should have told me. Would have made my decision easier if I’d known he kept reaching out to you.  What happened?”

Jimmy pointed her towards the couch.  “Nothing too spectacular. He just wanted to apologize and talk about the boys a little.”  He sat down in Margaret’s easy chair while his wife took the spot on the couch next to Sarah.  “You really made him happy, letting him see them.”

“You should have heard his apology to me.  It was like he read  _ Pride & Prejudice _ and took notes.  I didn’t know he had that in him.”  Sarah looked down at her fidgeting hands.  “He said all the right things and it seemed like he meant them.  It made me feel like he’d earned it. And earned us moving back, since he decided against moving down there.”

“So now that you’re here, are  _ you _ happy you came?”

She paused to think.  “Honestly, I’m not sure yet.  I’m exhausted from the overnight drive.  Seeing the kids back in the house and having Bill be happy to see us… that was wonderful.  But I’ve also been reminded of fights we had. Not because Bill is argumentative, but because those are my last memories of Jericho now.”

“You need new ones, then,” Margaret stated.  “Take the boys those places and let them play.  Make out with Bill if you need do. Or more.”

Sarah laughed.  “I hope it’s that easy – and doesn’t require being an exhibitionist!”  She sighed. “Some places, we can’t redeem. The sheriff’s office, for one.  That’s not Bill’s any more and as generous as Connor has been, I don’t see him letting us use his office to talk out marital problems.  Or ex-marital problems.”

“Maybe not, but you can still talk through that argument if you need to.  If you think Bill will do it with you,” Jimmy suggested.

“We’ll see.”  She covered a yawn with her hand.  “I think I need to head back to the house before  _ I _ wreck the car driving home.”

Jimmy and Margaret didn’t laugh at her half-assed morbid joke, but she hadn’t really expected them to.

“Let us know if you need to come here.  Middle of the night, if you have to,” Margaret instructed.

Sarah nodded, hugged them both, stuck her head in the kids’ bedrooms to wish them a Merry Christmas, and headed home.

If it  _ was _ home.

She sat in the driveway, thinking, long enough that Bill came out to check on her.

He climbed into the passenger seat and looked concerned.  “Are you okay?”

Sarah shrugged.  “Tired, mostly. I think.  I need a nap and maybe then I can process this better.”

Bill studied her.  “What’s wrong? I thought today went well.”

“It has.  I just keep remembering the bad, now that I’m here.  And I don’t know how to override those memories. Jimmy and Margaret said to talk through the arguments and make new memories in those locations, but I don’t know if it’s that easy.”

Bill nodded, biting his lips.  “Okay,” he said. “The boys crashed and are in their rooms.  You need sleep too. Let’s start with our bedroom.”

She gave him a look.  “I don’t think I have the energy or desire for sex, Bill.”

“I didn’t say that,” he protested.  “Follow me.”

Knowing Bill was right about needing sleep, she did.  He met her outside the van with an outstretched hand and led her into their bedroom.

She could tell it’d been a bachelor bedroom for a while now.  It reminded her more of Bill’s apartment bedroom than the one they had shared: stark and bare and completely impersonal.  The bed was the same, however, just without the throw blankets and extra pillows she’d always kept on it.

Bill sat her down on the bed and she thought he might try to undress her, but he undid her shoes instead, carefully taking them off and laying them to the side.

He stood her up again and pulled down the blankets on both sides.  “Get in,” he said gently.

Sarah complied, pulling the blankets up to her chin.  Bill watched her, then took off his own shoes and coat and crawled in next to her.

His hands were cold from his brief journey outside, but Sarah knew hers were as well.  He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Sleep. If the boys wake up, I’ll get them.  In the meantime, I’ve got  _ you _ again.”

She nodded, curling up against his chest, just like she used to, and tried to relax enough to feel protected and comfortable.  It’d only been half a day, but she hadn’t seen any signs of anger from Bill.

A few deep breaths and Sarah was able to release some of the tension.  She was back in her bed, with her husband – well, ex-husband – with her kids in their bedrooms again.  Bill rubbed her back as he held her and that was all it took.

Sarah fell asleep in Bill’s arms and it felt like home again.

 

Bill couldn’t believe Sarah was back in his arms so soon.  Or at all, really. He’d been terrified that she really had been saying goodbye back in Chattanooga.

He’d been holding on to the promise of having his sons for five days.  He’d even quit the granary right before Christmas so he didn’t have to work while they were here – and anyway, he started back as a deputy on New Year’s.

But to have Sarah with them, too?  Bill was thrilled. She obviously still had some reservations, but he was sure he could deal with them.  After all, the hard part had been getting her here and she already planned to stay.

Sarah settled down into the bed as she slept and Bill watched her, holding back his desire to touch her constantly.  He wanted to stroke her cheeks, brush her hair, anything to ensure she was real. He didn’t want to wake her, however.

Instead, Bill lay there, face in Sarah’s hair, basking in her warmth and scent and presence, until the bedroom door creaked open.  He rolled over to see Wes there, chewing on a fingernail.

“Hey,” he whispered, extricating himself from Sarah’s grasp.  “Sleep well?”

Wes shrugged.  “Bed’s littler than it used to be.”

When had Wes become that well-spoken?  In the last two weeks or had he just not noticed when he visited?  “You’ve grown,” Bill explained, hustling him out of the bedroom so Sarah could sleep.  He peeked in at Nathan, who just barely fit in his toddler bed. They’d had twin beds in Chattanooga; no wonder Wes thought his own toddler bed was too small.

“Your Nana and Granddaddy are bringing your other beds,” he promised, “but they won’t be here for a day or two.  You’ll just have to deal with the small bed until then.”

Wes nodded, looking like he was pondering the situation.  “Daddy?”

“What is it, bud?”  Bill led the way into the living room, where they could play with Wes’ new toys – he had Santa gifts, Mama gifts, Daddy gifts, and Grandma gifts to enjoy.  Extra presents were the one perk of divorced parents, Bill guessed. 

“Are you and Mama married again?”

Well, he guessed he should have expected a question like that.  Bill picked up Wes, sat in his recliner, and let his son settle into his lap.  “Not right now we’re not. Daddy would like to be, but Mama’s not sure.”

“’Cause you were mad?”

Bill smiled sadly.  “Yeah, Wes. Because I was mad and said and did mean things.  I apologized and really meant it, though, which is why she’s giving me a second chance.”  He bopped Wes’ nose with a finger. “This is why you talk to someone when you’re mad at them and don’t just hold it in.  I forgot that and it made me do bad things.”

“I want you to be married again.  Be my Mama and Daddy again.”

“Oh, Wes,” Bill said, tugging a curl lightly.  “Even if we aren’t married, we’re still your Mama and Daddy.  We still love you very much.”

“But Mama doesn’t love you?”  Wes looked at Bill with Sarah’s face and Sarah’s big blue eyes.

“Mama says she loves me,” Bill said.  “But she’s not sure it’s enough to make up for what I did.  I’m trying to be better, because I want her to stay. I want you and Nathan to stay with me, too.  But even if it’s never enough, I’ll always love her.”

He hugged Wes tight and noticed Nathan peeking into the living room.  Bill held out one arm and Nathan ran to join Wes on his lap. There almost wasn’t room for both of them anymore, but he was going to make it work.

“You listened to what I was telling Wes?” Bill asked and Nathan nodded.  “Good. Because it’s true for you too. We both love you very much and are still your Mama and Daddy, whatever happens.”

Nathan nodded again and snuggled into Bill’s side.

Bill could have spent all day there, but he knew he needed to wear the boys out again before bedtime if he had any hope of sleep.  “You guys want to go to the park?” he asked.

Both nodded and he sent them off to get shoes while he grabbed their coats.  Almost as an afterthought, he wrote a post-it note for Sarah and left it on the mirror in the bathroom.

After visiting Chattanooga, Bill knew Jericho’s little metal playground was pathetic – Nathan’s school playground had been twice the size.  It also had more than a jungle gym, swings, and a slide or two, but that’s what Jericho had and Bill hoped it was enough.

Hoped  _ Jericho _ was enough for all of them now.

Neither boy complained.  They still had enough imagination in them that the playground provided plenty of opportunities for fun.  Bill sat on a bench, watching them, wishing he had some sort of heater.

About an hour in, gravel crunched behind him and he looked back to see Sarah.

“Hey!” he said.  “I didn’t hear you drive up.”

“I didn’t,” she replied, sitting next to him, arms crossed for warmth.  “I walked. Figured you’d see me if you were already on the way back.”

She scooted an inch or two to be closer to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.  If anyone were to walk by, they’d never know the problems this family had been through.

Well, they would, because it was Jericho and nothing stayed secret for long in Jericho.  But for a moment, Bill could imagine that his family hadn’t left him for months. That they hadn’t lost a child.

“We look pretty normal right now,” Sarah said quietly, unknowingly echoing Bill’s thoughts.

“We do,” Bill agreed.  “I like it.”

Sarah was silent for a moment, watching Wes try to stand on top of the monkey bars.  “I do, too.”

Bill took that as a sign things were going right.

 

Over the next few days, they moved the stuff from Sarah’s apartment in where they could, putting the rest in the backyard storage shed.  Bill re-learned his family – what the boys’ new favorite colors were, how much they’d learned at school, and that Nathan suffered from night terrors now.

Bill felt that last was his fault, so whenever Nathan screamed in the middle of the night, he made sure  _ he _ was the one to get up and calm him back down.  Sometimes Wes woke with nightmares, too, but he didn’t cry out; he just crawled into bed between his parents and went back to sleep.

They boys played with their new toys, Sarah searched for a new job – the library had filled her old position and didn’t need another part-timer – and Bill waited for his old job to start anew.

They dined with his mom three nights, including New Year’s Eve.  Bill was antsy for the next day and the boys were excited because Pam had bought sparklers.  Sarah showed them how to write the new year numbers by moving the sparklers quickly. Nathan figured out how to draw other things and they used up two boxes of sparklers in fifteen minutes.

While the boys and Sarah were distracted, Pam talked to her son.

“Is she going to stay?”

Bill sighed.  “I still don’t know, Mom.  But she hasn’t talked about leaving.”

“You need to talk about this with her.  You can’t just go on not knowing like this.  What if she leaves without telling you and takes the boys again?”

“I don’t think she’ll do that.”

“You need to be sure.”

Some part of Bill knew his mom was right, but he didn’t want to push Sarah.

They let the boys stay up until eleven to watch the ball drop in New York.  Wes fell asleep almost as soon as the countdown ended, but Nathan needed a little more coaxing to get in bed.

When midnight hit, Bill and Sarah were both in bed, neither of them interested in celebrating more – and Bill  _ did _ have work at five-thirty in the morning once more.  He couldn’t sleep, however.

“Sarah?”  He rolled on his side to face her.  “What are you thinking?”

She gave him a sleepy look.  “I’m thinking it’s bedtime.”

“No, what are you thinking about  _ us _ ?” he clarified.  “I haven’t wanted to push you on it, but I think I need to know.  I don’t want to come home and find you all gone again. If you’re going to leave, I won’t stop you, but I want to  _ know _ .”

Sarah looked at him and he could tell she was studying his face.  He tried to keep his expression schooled but hopeful, hiding the fear of what she might say.

“This week has been nice,” she said and Bill heard a “but” coming.  He braced himself.

“But I wanted to wait to make a firm decision until you were back at work.  See how you do there, not just on vacation. See if you and Jimmy work together again.  See how close we can get to our old life.”

Bill started to point out that they probably weren’t going to get their old lives back, not completely, but she cut him off.

“I know.  But I want to see how close we can get.”

Was Sarah setting them up for failure?  Were her standards too high? “And how close are you hoping for?”

“I really don’t know, Bill,” she sighed.

“Do you  _ want _ to stay?”

Sarah stroked his cheek.  “I do. I want this to work.”

Bill closed his eyes.  He’d needed to hear that.  “Then we’ll make it work.”

 

Four and a half hours later, the alarm went off.  Bill was  _ not _ ready to get up; he’d gotten used to going into work at eight the last four years.

Sarah woke, too, and pushed Bill out of bed.  “Want breakfast?” she asked.

Bill nodded.  He’d been in charge of breakfasts since Christmas and it would be nice to have Sarah’s cooking to send him off.

He showered and dressed.  He didn’t have a badge yet, but just being in the uniform was nice.  He felt like he had a purpose again.

Sarah greeted him in the kitchen with coffee and an omelet.  He thought he saw some vegetables in it, but he could probably stand to eat them.  He hadn’t exactly made his health a priority the last few months. “You ready for this?” she asked.

Bill took the plate and she sat down across from him.  “As ready as I can be,” he said.

“Think you’ll enjoy patrolling again or will it irk you not to be in charge?”

“If Jimmy forgives me and trusts me again, I think I’ll be happy.  I can’t ask for much more than that.” Okay, even with the veggies, this was a good omelet.  Plenty of cheese to make up for the spinach. God, he’d missed Sarah’s cooking.

Bill scarfed down his breakfast and checked the clock.  Five-ten. Perfect. He brushed his teeth, kissed Sarah goodbye, and went off to work.

Sitting at his old desk was Jimmy, with some deputy badges arrayed on the desktop.  “Welcome back,” Jimmy said.

“I can’t believe Connor is letting me do this, but I’m happy to be here,” Bill said, grabbing a badge to pin on his shirt.

“Me either,” Jimmy said and Bill couldn’t quite tell if that was an enthusiastic or disappointed response.

“You okay with this?” Bill asked.  “Working with me again?”

“More than you probably think,” Jimmy answered.  “Just don’t let me down again, got it? I stuck up for you, so don’t make my word mean nothing.”

Bill nodded.  “Got it. Did you want to go out separately or together today?”

“Together,” Jimmy said.  “ _ Technically _ , you’re a trainee again, so Connor asked me to make sure you still remembered your stuff.”

Bill was almost offended, but bit his tongue.  He understood the trainee part, but to hear Jimmy was going to ride with him because Connor asked and not because he wanted to…

Jimmy clapped Bill on the shoulder.  “And we’ve got to catch up. You can tell me what the hell you were thinking then and what’s going on now.”

Some of the tension drained from his shoulders.  That sounded more like the Jimmy that was his friend, not the Jimmy who’d had to protect Bill’s family from him.

That memory – standing in the Taylors’ drive, facing down Jimmy – stayed with him while they headed out for the day.

“I’m sorry I put you in that position,” Bill said one more time.

“You’re going to have to stop apologizing someday, Bill.”

“I’m still sorry about it.”  Bill shrugged. “I don’t think I can say it enough to you guys or to Sarah and the kids.”

“At some point you’ll have to.  Accept that you’ve been forgiven – or not – and move on.  Handle this more gracefully than you handled moving on from Libby.”  Jimmy glanced at him from the driver’s seat. “So what the hell happened?  Why did you react the way you did?”

Bill did his best to explain, from the initial grief to anger at God that became anger at the world and then anger at Sarah.  The boys just got caught in the crossfire. He’d never meant to hurt them, but he was blinded by rage. He didn’t see what he was doing to them until it was too late.

“I wish you’d been there to stop me from taking them that night.  If I hadn’t put you on leave, you’d’ve been home and you could have stopped me.”

“Thought you said I was a pushover,” Jimmy said wryly.

“I’d say don’t remind me, but I probably deserve it,” Bill said, burying his face in his hands.

“You do,” Jimmy confirmed.  “But I’m not here to torture you.  I’m just honestly curious what was going through your head.”

“Nothing good.”

Jimmy nodded and changed the subject.  He started grilling Bill on all the 10 codes and other codes the department used, just to make sure he hadn’t forgotten.

Bill hadn’t.  He’d been a deputy or a sheriff for nineteen years.  A couple months away hadn’t degraded his memory  _ that _ much.

A call for a domestic disturbance came over the radio.  Jimmy looked at Bill and grinned. “Okay, let’s get you back in action.”

After that, their day stayed busy.  Burglary reports, one instance of breaking and entering a locked warehouse, and a couple more domestics kept them hopping.  Bill tried to stay on top of the paperwork as they went, but he could only do so much to keep up.

At least what he’d told Sheriff Neal was true; deputies didn’t have as much paperwork as sheriffs did.

When he and Jimmy came in from patrol at two, Connor was waiting in his office.  He waved Jimmy in, so Bill sat and finished up the last of the reports. He knew they were talking about him, but that was inevitable.  He was in a trial period. Connor could always fire him during the first couple months.

Bill’s stomach twisted in knots thinking about how precarious his position was.  He felt his anxiety rising and he quickly tried to distract himself with his work to fend off a panic attack.  What if he lost the job again? Would Sarah take the boys and leave? Go back to Chattanooga? It was probably too late to get that job in Rhea County again.

“Breathe, buddy.”

He looked up and Jimmy was standing over his desk, looking worried.

“You did well today.  Connor’s happy.”

“He need to talk to me?” Bill asked shakily.

“Nah.  Go home.  Get rid of the tension one way or another.”

So Bill did.  It was nap time when he got home and Sarah was waiting for him.

They hadn’t had sex since she came back to Jericho – Bill trying not to push her, again – but she seemed to sense he needed  _ something _ .  She led him back to the bedroom and placed her hand over his badge.

“I’m glad you got that back.  Are you?”

Bill nodded.

“Good.”  She kissed the corner of his mouth and he turned to catch her lips fully.  She didn’t pull away, so he pressed on, opening his mouth and exploring hers.

Sarah unbuttoned his shirt and laid it aside before tugging at his undershirt.  He returned the favor, yanking off her sweater and tossing it to the floor.

She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pushing them to the ground.  He stepped out of them and kicked off his shoes. Sarah yanked down his boxers, leaving him completely undressed while she still had her pants and bra on.

That seemed to be her goal, however.  She sat him down on the bed and went to her knees.  His dick, which had only been partially hard, swelled to full size as she caressed him, using just the slightest hint of fingernail at strategic points to make him moan.

Her hands danced around the inside of his thighs, around his balls, and then wrapped fully around him while she swirled her tongue around his head.  She took him in, using some suction, and Bill almost bucked off the bed. He had  _ not _ been expecting this.  “Jesus, Sarah…”

She gave him a “shut up” look and he obeyed, getting lost in the sensations as she stroked and licked and sucked.  Bill shook with pleasure, repeating Sarah’s name softly – thought his volume jerked upwards a time or two as she did something especially nice.

He twined one hand in her hair, missing her longer, easier to grab hair.  He made do, however, and helped her speed up so he got closer faster.

“Sarah, babe…” he warned, unsure if she wanted anything from him before he came.

Apparently not, because Sarah increased the pressure with her lips on the upstrokes and moments later, Bill came, shaking jerkily while trying not to hit the back of her throat.

She pulled off him and pushed him the rest of the way down on the bed.  “Still feeling tense?” she asked.

Bill laughed.  “I’m not feeling much except happiness right now.  How did you even know I needed that?”

Sarah climbed up next to him and ran her finger lightly over his chest.  “Educated guess. It was probably going to be a stressful day and you came in looking close to a panic attack.”

“Thank you,” he said.  “You guessed right. But you…”

“You’ll get me later.  Nap now while the kids are asleep.”

“I’ll get in bed when I can move again,” Bill said, still a little breathless.  “God, you’re good at that.”

Sarah preened a little at the compliment and bent down to kiss him.  She tasted salty, tasted like him – something that had bothered him the first year or so but didn’t anymore.  He held her arm so she was caught where she was for a little bit longer.

She pulled away and picked up his boxers, sliding them up his legs until he could take over putting them on.  She also tossed him his undershirt and pulled down the blankets while he was getting dressed.

“We have dinner invitations tomorrow,” she said.  “Margaret called earlier.”

“Oh?” Bill asked.  He tried to sound interested but he was still blissed out.

“Yes.  Us and the boys.”  Sarah slipped under the covers and patted the bed next to her.

“Ah, they’re being brave,” he said, following her happily.

Sarah snuggled in close and Bill ran his fingers through her hair, straightening where he’d grabbed earlier.  After a minute’s quiet, Bill couldn’t stand it any more.

“Marry me again.”  He held his breath waiting for a response.  He’d gotten the ring back from his mother; it was in the bedside table, just waiting for a ‘yes.’

Sarah opened her eyes and he tried desperately to read them.  “Bill…”

“Don’t overthink it,” he said.  “Just say yes. We’ll go to the courthouse Monday and get it done.  No big fuss. Let the boys grow up with married parents like they want to.”

“Don’t use them,” Sarah begged, squeezing her eyes shut again.  “Bill, it’s only been a week.”

“It’s been long enough for me to know.  It’s working. Haven’t you seen that?” A worry struck him.  “Or are you miserable and I’ve completely missed it?”

She looked at him, eyes gentle.  “No, I’m not miserable. I’m happy but I’m scared to lose it all again.”

“But you want this to work?”

“I do.”  Sarah stroked his chest, twirling a thumb around a nipple.  “I want to be a family again. I want… I want to try again for another baby before it’s too late.  But I’m terrified. What if we lose another one? Will our fallout be even worse for the boys? Will you lose yourself completely to your anger?  Will I lose myself to sadness?”

Bill listened, but he didn’t have a solid answer.  “Sarah, there aren’t any guarantees.”

“I  _ know _ that.”

“There weren’t any guarantees when we got married.  Or when we decided to have children. Those things worked out pretty well, I think.”

“Until they didn’t.”  Tears leaked from her eyes and he wiped them away.

“Until they didn’t,” he agreed.  “But we can make it work again. Don’t you think?”

He saw the fear in her eyes now.  “I don’t know.”

Realizing she was just going to talk herself in circles, Bill relented.  “Just think about it, okay? Say yes any time you want and I’ll drop everything.”  He cupped her face in one hand. “You’re loved here. You’re wanted. You’re  _ needed _ .  Just as you are, fears and all.”

Another tear ran down her face.  He kissed that one away, but didn’t say anything else.

He’d just try again later.

 

Sarah got the boys enrolled in school for the second semester, but didn’t have any luck finding a job.  There was a receptionist position at the clinic she was hoping for, but she’d heard there were lots of applicants.

And every day, Bill mentioned marriage.

And every day, she said “not yet.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she told Margaret over the phone.  “I want to say yes, but I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s right for me or the boys.”

“The boys need you and Bill to get along, whether you’re married or not.”

Sarah rolled her eyes.  “Yes, thanks, I know that.”

“The point is that you’re going to be taking care of the boys whether or not you marry.  You need to think about  _ you _ .”

“That still doesn’t help me.”

“Would you feel more comfortable living on your own once you get a job?”

“To be honest, no.  I hated it in Chattanooga,” Sarah admitted.  “I hated having to work full-time and not see the boys except at night.  I know that some mothers like working, but I didn’t. Even the part-time job at the library was too much sometimes, although we needed it to pay for preschool.  But that was with the sheriff’s salary.”

“Bill’s good with money, you always said,” Margaret pointed out.  “And Jimmy and I have made it work on a deputy’s salary.”

She was complaining to the wrong person.  Margaret would listen to her, but the Taylors had always done more with less money than she and Bill had.  Sarah suspected it was because of her – medicine costs, therapy when they could afford it, and her own predilection for eating out when possible.

“I know,” she sighed.  “And we’ll figure something out, but–”

“Aha!”

Sarah realized what she’d said.

“You  _ do _ want to stay with him.  You’re already planning ahead.”

Sarah bit her lip, not wanting to admit it.

“Okay, fine,” she eventually said when the silence got awkward.  “I do. I love him and I’m glad to be back in Jericho with him. But after everything we went through, to just go back to normal…”

“Your boys need some normal.  They’ll adjust to whatever you two do, but two married – and happy – parents is probably the best situation for them.

Margaret was right, once again.  “So you think I should say yes and to hell with my fears?  No matter how well-founded?” Sarah fiddled with the telephone cord – one relic of Bill’s grandparents’ days that they’d kept.

“I think you need to think about what happens if you say no.”  She could just imagine Margaret’s lecturing face. “Do you move out with the boys again?  Where do you work? Where do you stay? What are you willing to sacrifice to avoid facing your fears with Bill?”

Sarah didn’t respond.  Margaret was too on-target, as usual.

“Sarah, it’s obvious you want to be with Bill.  You wouldn’t have dumped your piece of Chattanooga tail and come back to Jericho if you didn’t.”  Margaret sighed. “As your friend, I’m telling you to say yes. I’ll come be a witness if you want.  Jimmy too.”

She was right.  Sarah  _ did _ want to be with Bill, even though the idea terrified her.  She wanted Nathan and Wes to grow up with both their parents.  To grow up here in Jericho.

She wanted to say yes.  There was just one thing that needed to happen first.

 

Bill’s next off day, Sarah dragged him out of the house while the boys were at school.  He didn’t know where they were going – until she turned to the west side of town and the cemetery.

“Libby?” he asked, gulping.  It’d been a while since he visited her; he and Sarah may have finally mourned her together in Chattanooga, but they hadn’t been  _ here _ together.

“Libby,” she answered and parked the van as close as they could get to her grave.

Bill looked around, remembering when he was last here, almost two months ago, at his rock bottom.  Now things were actually looking up, even if he had no clue what Sarah wanted.

She sat cross-legged on the cold ground facing the headstone and motioned for him to join her.  Bill sat gingerly, wondering what was going to happen.

He stared at his daughter’s grave  and felt a swell of emotion. Was  _ he _ ready to be here with Sarah?

Bill watched as she laid her hand on the ground, flat above where the coffin was buried.  “This is my first time to see her since I got back,” she said. “You?”

“I came out here election night,” Bill admitted.  “But not since then.”

A tear ran down Sarah’s cheek.  “Do you still blame me?”

A pang struck Bill’s heart as he remembered their fights before the divorce.  He  _ had _ accused her of letting Libby die.  Twice: once in the sheriff’s office and once at his mother’s house.

_ Did _ he blame Sarah?  At the time, he’d meant it.  Truly believed that if she’d spoken up sooner, Libby would still be alive. 

The reflecting he’d done over the past two months showed him otherwise.  Sarah might never believe it, but he’d gone online and looked up support groups and message boards.  The general consensus seemed to be that by the time Sarah would have known something was wrong, Libby was already dead.

“No,” he said.  “I don’t think there was anything you could have done.”  He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but sensed it wasn’t the right time.

“I still do, a little,” she said.  “I wonder if we should have gotten the autopsy, just to see if there was some reason.  Something to blame. A birth defect, maybe.”

“Did you go online?  Look up message boards and stuff?” he asked.  “I did.”

Sarah shot him an incredulous look.

Bill huffed.  “I  _ can _ use the internet, thank you.  But what I read convinced me it was something neither of us could have prevented.  So I really don’t blame you and you shouldn’t either.”

Sensing it was the right time now, he reached over and picked up her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back.  Sarah looked down and watched for a silent minute.

“And do you think I’m worse off mentally than I was before?  That my therapy was pointless? Or even would have helped us?”

Bill closed his eyes, thinking.  “I don’t know if it would have worked for us.  I was so angry, I really gave up early on. If I’d been willing to work on us, yes, but I wasn’t.”

“And me?”

He looked up into her eyes.  “I think we’re both damaged by her death.  But that doesn’t mean you’re broken,” he said, using the word she’d described herself with before their marriage.  “Look at what you did. You took off on your own again and made a life, this time with two children, and you didn’t have a breakdown.  That’s pretty damn strong.”

She blushed and looked back at the headstone.  “I said some nasty things, too. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing I didn’t deserve,” Bill said.  He really couldn’t remember anything she’d said that wasn’t true, in some form.  “Sarah, I’m so sorry I said those things. I’m sorry about most everything I said, but particularly making you blame yourself.”

He didn’t want to say the next part, but he needed to.  “I understand if you can’t forgive me for that.”

Quiet fell over the cemetery.  Bill went back to staring at Libby’s headstone, trying his hardest to remember what she felt like in his hands that day.  Every day, a little of that memory slipped away and he feared the day he’d forget entirely.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah said, “I think knowing that you don’t believe I did it is a start.  I have to convince myself, too. But it  _ is _ a start, like I said.”

She turned his face towards her and leaned over for a kiss.  Bill hadn’t been expecting that.

Had Sarah gotten what she wanted out of this visit to see Libby?

 

She had. 

“Yes,”  she said when Bill walked in the door the next afternoon, no preamble.  “I’ll marry you again.”

Obviously, she’d caught him completely off-guard.  He dropped his hat and coat there in the kitchen and stared at her.  “You’re sure?”

“I said it.  I mean it. I’m still terrified, but I can’t let that hold me back forever.  I do want to stay with you. I want the boys to have us both, together. I want  _ you _ .”  Sarah leaned against the back of a chair, watching Bill.  “So yes. Let’s get married.”

He rushed forward and grabbed her for a kiss.  “You have no idea how much I’ve been praying for you to say that.”

“Well, you  _ have _ mentioned it every day since the start of the year,” Sarah joked weakly.  “The question is, do you want to do it as soon as possible or wait until our old anniversary?  That way we don’t have to decide when to celebrate it.”

“Wait until October?”  Bill looked shocked. “No, we’ll celebrate twice if we need to or just pick one of the days.  But there’s still time today. Let’s go up to Fielding and do this.”

“Maybe not right this second,” Sarah said.  “But this week. We have to have witnesses, you know.”

“I’ll call Stanley.  He can meet us there.”

She laughed.  He was so eager it was endearing now that she’d made up her mind.  “Jimmy and Margaret have volunteered already. We should probably coordinate with them – and Stanley, too, if you want him.”

Bill sighed.  “Okay, you’re right.  But wait here.” He picked up his coat and hat and headed off down the hall.  When he came back, he had her engagement ring. “This is yours,” he said, slowly sliding it on her finger.  “It’s always been yours.”

Sarah reached in her pocket and pulled out her wedding band.  “I’ve kept this, too. Just in case we needed it again.”

Bill kissed her once more, but this time there was a chorus of “Ewwww”s from the hallways.  Sarah turned and saw the boys making gagging faces.

“I should take your picture now,” she threatened.  “See what you think about kissing when you get older.”

Wes shook his head.  “Nuh-uh. Not gonna change my mind.”

“You just might,” Bill said.  He knelt in front of them. “Your Mama and I want to do something and I want you guys to say it’s okay.”

“What?” asked Nathan.

“Get married again.  You and your mom and I live here together again, like we used to.  And never split up again.”

Sarah watched with a smile as the boys slowly grinned and nodded.  They even jumped up and down a little. She hadn’t realized how important this was to them.

Granted, she hadn’t realized how important it was to  _ her _ .

 

Two days later, Bill and Jimmy drove up to Fielding right after work, still in their uniforms.  There, they met Sarah, the boys, Margaret, Stanley, and Bonnie, all dressed up.

Bill and Sarah returned each other’s wedding bands in front of a judge in a small office.  Nothing like their first wedding, but it served the purpose they needed. They signed the wedding license and Stanley treated everyone to dinner at the farmhouse.

The newlyweds – was ‘re-newlyweds’ a term, Sarah wondered – only had eyes for each other, just like their first wedding.  The kids ran wild, but there was plenty of room on the farm for them to do it.

And their friends?  Everyone seemed just as happy as they did.

This time, things were going to work.  They knew the pitfalls that could trip them up and this time they would be wary.

Bill kissed her and Sarah knew she was home.

 

 

**EPILOGUE: EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER**

Of course, the text message came while Bill was on the far side of the county, dealing with a report of horse theft.

_ Having contractions.  Your mom’s picking up the boys.  Come home when you can. _

Bill stared at his phone.  The timing was right this time.  Sarah was overdue and ready for this baby to get here.  He was, too.

He checked the clock.  Only thirty minutes left in his shift.  If he hurried with this report, he could make it back to the department only a few minutes after the hour and maybe Jimmy would cover him for the rest of the paperwork so he could get to Sarah as soon as possible.

_ Give me forty five minutes.  Hang in there, babe. _

As soon as he finished typing in the report, Bill ran code all the way back to the station, getting there at two o’clock on the dot.

Jimmy was already there, writing at his desk.

“Sarah’s in labor,” Bill said quickly.  “Can you cover me?”

Jimmy’s eyes widened.  “Get out of here! I’ve got you!”

Bill complied.

 

It was almost dawn when the baby finally made his appearance.  Tiny Owen was pale white but turning redder by the minute, squashed in the face, and the best thing Bill and Sarah had seen in a long time.  Holding him almost made up for all the pain they’d been through to get him there – from Libby onward.

Seven year old Nathan was not impressed with another little brother, but five year old Wes still thought he was neat.  “I finally get to be bossy!” he announced to the clinic room at large.

“We’re getting pictures,” Sarah insisted.  Wes crawled on the bed while she held Owen and Bill stood with Nathan in front of him.  The nurses and Pam took multiple pictures this time.

Sarah kissed Wes’ head as he held his new brother.  Bill gave Nathan a hug as they watched.

The only one missing was Libby, but she was on everyone’s minds.  Even Nathan and Wes remembered their sister who never came home. They were old enough to understand not to ask if Owen would make it home, though.

He would, of course, and they’d be a family with three boys.  Sarah was going to be so outnumbered, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that their sons were happy and healthy and their daughter was remembered.  As long as that happened, both Bill and Sarah would be happy.

Bill took the sleepy baby from Sarah and put him in the clinic’s bassinet.  “Okay, guys. Mama needs a nap while Owen is asleep. Let’s go back to Grandma’s.  I’ll walk you guys out.”

Sarah said goodbye to her boys – the two older ones, at least – and held out a hand to the bassinet.  Owen yawned and fell asleep with his tiny arm in her hand.

“Hey, baby boy,” she whispered.  “You’ve got a family that loves you.  We’ve had our issues and you’ll learn about them someday, but all you need to know right now is that you have a Mama and a Daddy that love you very much and that love each other very much.  Two good big brothers, too. I think you’re a pretty lucky little guy.”

“He is,” said Bill quietly from the door.  “And so am I, for you forgiving me.”

Sarah reached her other arm out for Bill and he came to the bedside.  “We’re all pretty lucky we got past that. I don’t even want to think about what my life would be without you and this little one.”

“Lacking,” Bill joked.

She smiled at him.  “I’m ready to get out of here, introduce him to his new home.”

“Sleep now.  Home will be waiting.  Always,” Bill assured her.

She believed it, whole-heartedly.


End file.
